


Sole Custody

by way1203



Series: Love’s Better Encumbered [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Because Oswald deserves a family, Because these characters deserve happiness, Domestic Bliss, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Godfather Victor Zsasz, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Smut, Murder Husbands, Murder Wives, Nygmobblepositivity, Parent Barbara Kean, Parent Tabitha Galavan, Parent-Teacher Conferences, Parenthood, Protective Victor Zsasz, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-25 23:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10774920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/way1203/pseuds/way1203
Summary: After seven years of marriage and suppressing The Riddler, Edward decides he wants to divorce Oswald...and he wants sole custody of their daughter. But it’s not long before Ed realizes what it is he really needs.





	1. Custody

**Author's Note:**

> Popped into my head this morning, so I wrote it out. I may continue it depending on how it's received.

"Edward, _please_."

The taller man adjusted his glasses and set his shoulders. Edward was the one who filed for a divorce after seven years of marriage. He loved Oswald—he still did. But things were different. His partner took the news pretty hard. It'd been a few days and he was still reeling. This morning, Oswald stood before him in a robe, his hair disheveled, lack of sleep showing beneath his eyes. The pinkness of his skin at the top half of his face made it painfully obvious that he'd been crying. Ed didn't blame him. He _did_ blindside him, after all.

" _Don't_." Oswald swallowed. "Don't be cruel. Asking for a separation is enough. Don't—"

"I want sole custody of Annabelle."

Oswald's jaw slackened. Edward knew he was being greedy, and somewhere he knew his Ozzy didn't deserve this, but he wanted their daughter. His less than desirable self wanted to take her from him. Those blue irises were dwarfed by the partially bloodshot whites of Oswald's eyes. Ed had truly shocked him. The smaller man crumpled into a chair.

Ed continued to speak shamelessly. "We will work out an arrangement where you may see her once or twice a month, on holidays, what have you. However, Annabelle will live with me."

" _Why_?" asked Oswald. "What have I done to you, Ed? I-I love you. I-I-I never cheated. I took care of us. We shared responsibilities. I'm not a bad father to Annabelle. What did...what did I do to make you want to take her from me?"

The man who always had something to say was speechless. That was just it. Oswald _hadn't_ done anything. Oswald was a phenomenal father, better than himself if he were completely honest. But he didn't care. He just wanted to hurt him.

"Ed, I don't want this to get any messier. We'll share custody—"

"No," said Ed. "AB should be with me."

"She's four!" Oswald snapped. "Be sensible. It's already hard enough for her to understand that her parents aren't together anymore. It's unfair for her. How do you think she'll handle it when one of her daddies is barely around?" He sighed. After running a hand over his face, he muttered, "Especially when it's the one who's been the most present."

Ed bristled at his insinuation. "Annabelle belongs to _me_ , Oswald! _She's biologically mine_!"

He knew he was out of line the moment the words left his mouth.

" _How dare you_?!" said Oswald through gritted teeth. "Who _are_ you, because you're _not_ the man I married. My parter would _never_ throw that in my face!"

Two years into their marriage, Edward and Oswald decided to start a family. The couple found a surrogate faster than anticipated. Ed and Oswald originally wanted to combine their genes, but both were without siblings. They agreed that they would have two children, the first with Oswald's sperm, the second with Edward's. It was perfect until they discovered one problem: Oswald's fertility. Annabelle Gertrude was their first and only child, and her genes belonged to Edward. When she was born, the pair immediately noticed Ed's ears and eyes reflected in her features. Oswald loved her more than life itself, as did Ed. Which was why, when Edward set divorce papers on the counter three afternoons ago during Annabelle's nap, Oswald figured they would make arrangements to co-parent.

Ed sighed, "I apologize."

"Why can't we co-parent, Edward?" Oswald's voice cracked. "Do you hate me that much?"

"I don't hate you."

"Then whatever I did to make you want to divorce me, please... _please_ just don't take that shit out on Annabelle!"

Ed softened. Oswald was crying now. The smaller man stood and limped over to him.

"She is a child, Edward. She's _innocent_. She needs both of us. I didn't have my father growing up, Ed." Oswald hiccuped. "Don't rob her of me. I don't want to rob her of you. I-I don't want her to end up like me."

Before Ed could speak, he felt three tugs on the leg of his slacks. Annabelle had done this to get his attention since she could crawl. Ed never questioned it, but as she got older, he wondered if he should. He looked down at the four-year-old, whose head reached the middle of his thigh. Her outfit, a t-shirt and a pair of striped leggings, was nowhere near either of her father's standards. She'd dressed herself this morning.

Ed gave her a wide smile. "Yes, AB, my baby. What is it?"

Her hands were behind her back, a stuffed penguin in one, two green barrettes in the other. She held up the snap clips expectantly and Ed took them, placing both between his lips as she hugged her penguin. Oswald watched him finger comb her bangs out of her eyes and clip the strands into place. 

"There you are, my dear. All done."

Both Ed and Oswald missed her long, brown pigtails. They recently had to chop her hair into a pixie cut due to an ill-fated game of Beauty Shop in her pre-K class. Annabelle looked down at her bare feet, then stared up at Ed with concern in her eyes.

"Did you forget your socks?" he asked.

She shook her head.

Annabelle had grown to be a perceptive and peculiar child, which wasn't too much of a surprise to either of her parents. She was quiet and curious, spending most of her time watching and listening to others. On _Take Your Child to Work Day_ , she clung to Ed's leg as he worked in the highly corrupt precinct that graciously offered him his job back a few years prior. Ed sent her to wander the main floor with a secretary to ensure she didn't witness him performing a post mortem. She returned with a great deal of knowledge regarding who always ate Bullock's lunch on Wednesdays. Two months ago, at a party, he'd panicked when he couldn't find Annabelle. Oswald managed to quickly find her beneath a cabinet in the sitting room. During the car ride home, she repeated something she overheard regarding one of Oswald's henchmen. He was apparently quite untrustworthy and the situation was handled immediately.

She kept to herself, which resulted in a few conferences when she was in nursery school because _Annabelle doesn't seem to want to play with others_ and _Annabelle refuses to participate in group activities_. She wouldn't talk directly to anyone other than her parents until she was three. She would whisper to Ed or Oswald when there was something she wanted to say, and they would relay the message. This also resulted in meetings with the nursery school teachers who were concerned because they believed Annabelle to be non-verbal. All conferences regarding her behavior mysteriously stopped after Ed attended one without his husband.

Oswald put on a smile and slowly crouched down to meet his daughter's eyes. "Hey, honey. Daddy and I were just talking."

Annabelle hugged her stuffed penguin even more tightly to her chest. She frowned at Oswald, then looked up at Ed.

"Honest," said Ed, as he knelt before his daughter. Her expression didn't change. "What's made AB negative, hmm?"

Oswald couldn't help but to smile at his husband's joke.

"You were yelling," said Annabelle. "Is it 'cause of the 'vorce?"

"Yes."

Ed clenched his jaw at Oswald's response. He knew lying to Annabelle wasn't worth it, but he figured, given the nature of the argument, it would be best to hide the truth from her.

"Yes, my love." Oswald kissed her forehead. "Daddy and I were arguing because of the divorce."

"We were just..." Ed paused for a moment, carefully crafting his reply. "Uh..."

 _Be honest_ , mouthed Oswald.

He sighed and said, "Daddy and I were just figuring out which of us you would stay with when I move out."

Oswald swallowed. He didn't expect Ed to be  _that_ honest with their daughter. "We didn't mean to worry you."

"I want to live with both of you," said Annabelle.

"Well, sweetheart, that can't happen. Your dads won't be together anymore..."

Ed touched her cheek. "So daddy and I, we won't live together anymore."

Annabelle crossed her right leg over her left and twisted from side to side. "I want to live with both of you."

"AB."

"Daddy, you can live upstairs." Annabelle stopped and stood straight. She looked down at the penguin and picked at a stain on its beak.

Oswald shook his head at his daughter's insistence. "A-Annabelle, that's not how it works."

"It's okay, Daddy. You'd be downstairs." She shrugged. "It's easy."

Neither parent wanted to reject her suggestion, especially Oswald. If Ed could stay upstairs in the guest bedroom next to Annabelle's, then perhaps he'd get over whatever it was that made him want to separate in the first place.

Annabelle's mind never ceased to amaze Ed. She got it from him—well, him and maybe the egg donor who wished to remain anonymous. She was stubborn like her fathers. She wanted what she wanted, and she wouldn't stop until it was hers. Right now, she wanted her fathers together.

Oswald looked at Ed, who was currently staring at his daughter with a hint of annoyance. Annabelle's eyes bore back into Ed's, her tiny arms folded around the neck of the penguin in symbolic defiance. She didn't want to leave him, and she certainly wasn't going to accept the idea of her parents living apart either. Ed blinked, as did Annabelle, but they continued to stare at each other. It unsettled Oswald to see the two of them this way. It wasn't the first time they looked at each other like this.

It happened a few times before, usually whenever Ed wanted Annabelle to do something she didn't want to do. Like when Ed told Annabelle at eighteen months that she couldn't eat another cookie and she defiantly ate one anyway. Or when Ed said the then two-year-old couldn't have a Disney plush toy, and she pitched a fit. Or when Ed told her that she would have to wear that frilly dress she hated to Oswald's party, and the then three-year-old proceeded to struggle, kick, and scream as he dressed her. He had to wear makeup to the party to cover the bruise she left from kicking him in the face.

The worst was when they potty trained Annabelle. After four months of her succeeding sometimes (namely when Oswald was around and at preschool), but having "accidents" others (when Ed was home with her for the day, or when it was Ed's turn to change her sheets at night), Ed and Annabelle had a stand off in the master bathroom.

_"You have to learn how to use the toilet." Edward had said. "I know you're choosing not to. We're not leaving this room until you go potty in the potty."_

Oswald had walked into the bathroom to find Annabelle sitting on the plastic potty with her arms folded, while Ed sat with his back against the wall opposite her. The two of them stared at one another. He promptly shut the door. Ed told him that night that, when he pulled her pants back up, she deliberately wet herself.

_"She's messing with me on purpose," he'd said through tears that night. "My daughter hates me, Oz. She fucking hates me."_

"Edward." Oswald cleared his throat. "I think we should discuss this later."

Ed's mind raced. His husband had a point. He couldn't punish Annabelle by forcing her away from Oswald. It wasn't fair to her. Speaking of unfair, he didn't even give Oswald a chance to fix them. Ed looked to his distraught husband. The poor, pathetic man didn't even know what was pulling them apart. He supposed he should at least give him a chance to fix them. If not for Oswald, then for Annabelle. He got to his feet and faced the smaller man. Oswald flinched. 

"I wear you down, yet you'll mourn me once I fly. You can kill me, but I will never die. What am I?" asked Ed.

Confusion flooded Annabelle's eyes. Oswald paused, then said, "Time."

"Yes. Time. It's what I'm going to give us so we can determine what's best for us and Annabelle. For now, I think this idea of her's is wise. I'll, uh, move my things upstairs this afternoon."

Annabelle threw her arms around Ed's leg. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, AB, my baby."

Oswald gave a small, relieved laugh. There was hope that Edward would change his mind. That whatever the problem was, whatever he'd done to make Ed so unhappy, would pass. He hoped that the rift that was between them would mend. Surely, it had to.

 _Yes, Ed_ , he thought. _Thank you._


	2. Conference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains brief sex

"Do you honestly not love me anymore?"  
  
"Oswald, please."  
  
"Just answer me."  
  
Ed gasped. His nails left behind red trails on Oswald's arms. He couldn't help but groan. Oswald had the perfect angle, his cock satisfying the spot that itched with desire. Ed widened his legs. What started as a civil conversation, dissolved to agitation, and escalated to both men grasping at each other's clothes in desperation. They had hurled insults and invaded each other's personal space until Ed grew bold. He found himself kissing Oswald before his mind caught up with his body's arousal. He gave in—they both did—and a handful of lube later, the result was this long-overdue moment.  
  
Oswald snapped his hips, burying himself deep within his husband. Each thrust left Ed whimpering against his shoulder. Both men were thankful Annabelle was at school. Between their voices and the thumping of their bed against the wall, they were making far too much noise. Ed held Oswald against him as he lifted his hips to match his pace. God, he was so satisfying. Why did he want to leave this?  
  
Oswald nipped at the skin just above Ed's collarbone. "Do you still love me?"  
  
"I never stopped," said Ed. "Honest. Oh, _God!_ "  
  
Oswald enjoyed being dominant and he loved that they took turns in this role. Seeing Ed reduced to this moaning lump made him even more turned on. As his husband went faster, Ed couldn't help but wince. It was almost too much, too harsh, but it was just enough to send him begging.   
  
" _O_ _z!_ Baby _, please."_  
  
He hated how desperate he came off, but he was _right there_. Their fingers laced. Ed felt his muscles tense. Their mouths met once more as Oswald tipped him into his release. Ed's eyes clamped shut. His head tilted back, exposing the cool veins of his neck to Oswald, who ran his tongue against them. The sound of Ed's pleasure filled the room and sent Oswald straight into an orgasm. Their voices blended. Ed loosely gripped his husband's neck, pulling him near until their chests were pressed together and he could feel Oswald's heart beating in time with his. They shared another kiss. Ed gazed up at Oswald, briefly admiring the freckles that peppered his face. Why did he want to let this beautiful man go?  
  
"I love you, Mr. Nygma."  
  
Oswald gave a lopsided grin. "I love you too, Mr. Cobblepot."  
  
Ed and Oswald started their marriage with their own names. It wasn't until they considered a child that the couple decided to hyphenate. Of course, that made Annabelle's full name a mouthful, but neither man wanted it any other way. Now, with the divorce, would they change their names back? If so, Annabelle would be the evidence that something, at some point, worked between Edward Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot. That something once went right, that there was once a love as gentle as her. Oswald pushed the thought from his mind and settled beside Ed. The air was silent, save for their breathing. He waited until they had both settled, then he posed the question that had bothered him for days.  
  
"Ed, why do you want it?"  
  
The master of riddles shut his eyes and swore under his breath. He knew it was coming. He had hoped it would be after the two of them relished each other in the afterglow.  
  
"What did I do?"  
  
"Nothing," said Ed. "You did nothing Oswald."  
  
The younger man wasn't satisfied with his answer. "Then why do you want to divorce me?"  
  
"Oswald..."  
  
"If I did nothing, there's no reason for the divorce! You can't want this because of Annabelle, you wanted custody of her. We just had sex, so intimacy isn't—" He was cut off by a vibration and the sound of a short piano riff. Oswald reached for his cell phone on the nightstand. "Damn."  
  
Ed adjusted his glasses. "Don't answer it."  
  
"I have to," said Oswald.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Without a word, he held up the phone where the words _GC Prep Academy_ appeared on the screen. Ed sighed. Oswald flipped open his phone and brought it to his ear.  
  
"This is Oswald Nygma-Cobblepot." He paused as the woman on the other end spoke. After a moment, he brought a hand to his face. "Yes....Yes....Both of us?...Yes...I understand. Yes, we'll be there....uh-huh. Thank you. Goodbye." He shut his phone and tossed it onto the bed. "Well, it's a good thing you're off today."  
  
Concern surged through Ed's mind. "Why? Is something wrong with Annabelle?"  
  
"I don't know, but we have a meeting with her teacher in," Oswald looked at his watch, "just over an hour."  
  
"Did they say what it was about?"  
  
"No. Only that it was pertinent that we both attend."  
  
"Well, shit."  
  
Oswald rested his chin in his palm. "My sentiments exactly."  
  
"What could it be now?" Ed ran a hand through his bangs. "Do you think AB did something?"  
  
"I don't know, but we should shower before we go."

 

* * *

  
Ed shifted uncomfortably in the wing-backed chair and looked at his husband who sat on the edge of his seat, back straight, hands folded atop his penguin cane. A wiry woman with her blonde-grey hair pulled into a high bun sat behind the desk in front of them. Ed looked at the certificates along the wall. Another woman who was short and round stood beside her, shifting her weight between her feet. Ed immediately recognized her as Annabelle's teacher. The one whose reputation (and limbs) he'd kindly threatened to damage if she ever called him or Oswald back for another conference regarding something that was simply part of Annabelle's nature. _For your sake, Ms. Riesling, this better be serious_ , he thought.  
  
"I'm glad the two of you could make it." The wiry woman smiled. "I'm Headmistress Dean."  
  
"Thank you for contacting us," said Oswald, with a cordial grin on his lips. "It's nice to meet you. Although, I do wish it were under better circumstances. I'm Oswald and this is my husband, Edward."  
  
"It's nice to meet you." Ed matched his smile. "What, may I ask, is the problem with our Annabelle? Has she done something wrong?"  
  
"Oh, no," said Headmistress Dean. "I assure you, Mr. Nygma-Cobblepot, Annabella—"  
  
Ed tilted his head. "Annabelle."  
  
"Yes, I'm sorry, Anna- _belle_. Annabelle is a well-behaved young lady. You've done a fair job raising her."  
  
"However?" Oswald began.  
  
"However, Ms. Riesling is concerned with her behavior this week."  
  
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you just stated that she is well-behaved."  
  
"Allow me to clarify. Annabelle hasn't done anything wrong. She isn't being disruptive. Her behavior is just a tad _different_ from her usual behavior. This week, Annabelle has been much quieter than usual. She's not playing with or talking to the two girls she normally associates with, Sasha and Amber. In fact, she's not playing or talking at all."  
  
"If I may in-in-interrupt, Headmistress," Ms. Riesling took a step forward. "Annabella—"  
  
"Annabelle," corrected Ed. "You're her teacher. I would think that it would be easy for you to say her name accurately on a consistent basis."  
  
Oswald turned his head toward his spouse, who looked back at him with a smile still plastered on his face. He could see the fiery annoyance in those dark eyes. He hoped he wouldn't have to help Ed dispose of her body in the near future. It would be exhausting to have to destroy evidence and feign ignorance when Gordon and the rest of GCPD came to their door first. And they would, because everyone knew that _Riddle Dad_ —as Ed was affectionately referred to by some of the parents in Annabelle's playgroup—disliked Ms. Riesling and was always kind of odd. Oswald was tired, and with the stress of the divorce, the pain in his foot and leg had increased. Not to mention, they would have to find Annabelle a new school because her father murdered her teacher. He just didn't have time for any of that.  
  
"Dear," said Oswald. "Give Ms. Riesling a break. I'm sure there are several Annabella's in this academy. Ours is the only Annabelle and I'm sure it's easy to get mixed up."  
  
"All the more reason for her to get it right, my love."

Ms. Riesling's face flushed. "R-Right. Anna- _belle_ is usually very q-quiet as is. However, she often speaks to these two girls during recess and at lunch. It's not a lot, usually a few words here or there. But-but, she's not speaking to them now at all. They ask her to play and she shakes her head. I-I'm concerned something has happened and I want to know if anything is going on in her family life. Maybe her pet p-passed away? Did she mention anyone at school being mean to her? I try to keep my watch on all of them, but sometimes things happen."

Oswald nodded in understanding while Ed made a face at this comment. Ms. Riesling visibly flinched.

"Um, it's not like Annabella—I'm so sorry! I mean, Annabelle. It's not Annabelle to act this way. I didn't want to disturb either of you, but I really feel something is upsetting her." She looked down at a yellow piece of construction paper on the Headmistress's desk. "I didn't want to contact you two about this. I figured whatever it was would blow over. But, Annabelle drew...this...this morning and I knew we needed to speak." She held up the yellow construction paper and turned it so the men could see Annabelle's artwork. "It made me concerned."

Annabelle had drawn a large black cloud filled with black question marks. Beneath the cloud were three stick figures equally distanced with sad faces. Around the cloud and the stick figures, it looked as though Annabelle had taken a black crayon and dragged it around and around making black swirls. Oswald frowned. Ed's lips pulled into a thin line. He looked up at the teacher, then back to the paper, then back at her. Ms. Riesling grew increasingly stressed by his reaction. She struggled to explain herself.     
  
"She usually uses bright colors. You know, pinks, greens, purples." She cleared her throat. "Um…I don't know how to say this, but, um, yeah, usually, if….Well, when children use a lot of black, it's a sign of their feelings feeling bad. I mean, Annabelle may be feeling….I think...I think...Headmistress can you..."  
  
Oswald watched Ms. Riesling step back and continue to tremble while avoiding eye contact with his husband. What the _hell_ did Ed say to her last time? He looked to Ed, whose eyebrows were knitted, his smile gone. Oswald watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

Headmistress Dean turned to the teacher hovering behind her. "Ms. Riesling, go collect Annabelle and her things so her fathers may take her home after this meeting."  
  
Both men had never been so happy to see someone scuttle away.

"As you can see, Annabelle may be troubled, and we wanted to bring this to your attention. Is there anything going on at home?"  
  
"No," Ed answered a bit too quickly. "I mean, no. Oswald and I are fine. Our home is a nurturing and calm environment. We try to keep Annabelle away from anything negative, very little television. I can't imagine what could be upsetting her this much."  
  
Oswald glanced at his husband. Ed _couldn't imagine_ what could be upsetting their daughter. Nice cover. He wanted to laugh. Instead, he got to his feet and looked at the Headmistress. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention. We'll speak to her."  
  
"Thank you for coming in," said Headmistress Dean. "Before you go, here is a number for a child psychologist—not that Annabelle needs it—but just in case. He comes highly recommended but he _does_ work out of Arkham. I know some parents dislike the idea of that."  
  
Ed blinked. Over the course of this meeting, he had grown increasingly uncomfortable with their choice for Annabelle's education. "Yes. Well, we'll get to the bottom of this. Annabelle will be right as rain."

He accepted the small business card, tucking it into the breast pocket of his jacket as he stood. He would rip this once they got into the car. Though he and Oswald hadn't talked it over, he knew that they mutually weren't okay with sending their child to a psychologist from that hellhole.


	3. Reasons

Oswald entered the master bedroom with the expectation that Edward's belongings would be moved. After all, he'd given him a chance to do so while he distracted Annabelle once they brought her home. Instead of finding the room half-empty, Oswald found his spouse in bed with the blankets pulled up to his shoulders, his belongings in their places completely undisturbed.

"Ed."

The taller man pressed his fingers to the inner corners of his eyes with a sniff. He cleared his throat. "Oswald."

"Belle's asleep. We need to talk."

"I'm not in the mood."

Oswald scoffed. He didn't know why he expected anything different. "Well, at the risk of sounding like a skipping disc, you can't avoid me forever."

He turned and made his way toward the bathroom with uneven steps. He needed a bath to ease his muscles. Shutting the door behind him, Oswald sighed. Edward and Annabelle: his loves and current sources of anxiety. What was he going to do? The sound of the water as it filled the tub helped him start the process of clearing his mind. He peeled off his clothes and tossed them into the hamper. He needed to get his spineless assistant to take its contents to the dry cleaner tomorrow. Oswald shook his head. He couldn't worry about his to-do list for home or the club. He needed to fix his marriage and get his daughter back to herself. A groan left his lips as he slid down into the water. He hoped the epsom salt would help with the pain. Oswald rested his head on the back of the tub and stared at the ornate ceiling. What was he going to do?

"Oz?"

He turned his attention to the doorway. Edward stood before him, hair mussed, eyes puffy. Oswald's gaze wandered further down to his gray t-shirt. He bit his lip at the sight of those blue boxer briefs that hugged Ed's body. If both men weren't so upset, he'd take him against the counter. Edward shut the door behind him and stepped deeper into the room. He set down the baby monitor in his hand. Oswald eyed it as though he expected to hear something other than Annabelle's music box and the faint sound of her even breathing. Thank heavens she was still sleeping. He sunk deeper into the tub until the water reached his clavicle.

Ed leaned back against the counter. He folded his arms, cupping his elbows in his palms. "Oswald, I need to talk."

Oswald scooped bubbles into his hand, opting not to respond. He wasn't sure that he could calmly reply to Ed's use of the word _I_. Of course he had wanted to talk _now_ , when it was convenient for _him_ to do so.

"I'm sometimes white, and always wrong. I can break a heart and hurt the strong. I can build love and tear it down. I can make a smile, but more often bring a frown. What am I?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you've been lying to me?" said Oswald. "Because honestly I don't think I can take hearing that you've cheated on me."

Ed wrung his hands. "I haven't been unfaithful to you. I took our wedding vows seriously."

"What you just said, is that the lie?"

"No. The lie is that I've been living the last three months as though I'm fine—we're fine—when I'm—we're—not. I think we should divorce because we've been drifting apart. I want a divorce because we've changed since Annabelle. It's not a bad change, it's a welcome one at times, but it's a change no less. We're not the same."

Oswald placed his arms on the side of the tub and rested his chin on top of them. "Oh, _honey_. We can't _afford_ to be the same."

Ed bristled. He disliked that patronizing tone.

"Dear, we just can't engage in nearly as much outwardly criminal activity—you know, killing people because we lost our tempers, threatening and torturing people, all of that other stuff because we have Annabelle. Before, if one of us ended up in Arkham, it was fine. Now, if that happened, we'd be condemning the other to the struggles of single parenthood. Edward, I saw how much my mother struggled. Even though she tried not to let on, I picked up on it. Annabelle already picks up on every little thing. Imagine what would happen then. I don't want Annabelle to have to deal with that. We agreed we didn't want that for her, or us."

"I know. But I want to go back to it all. I feel like we've drifted since we stopped being...well, evil isn't the word I'd use, but you know what I mean."

"So this divorce is a midlife crisis of villainy? Well, I wouldn't say we've stopped being criminal, evil, or what have you. We're still involved in Gotham's underground. We still make deals and keep our power at an appropriate level. We still kill...some of us more than others." Oswald shot his husband a sharpened glance. He was fully aware of the recent increase in Ed's body count. "It's fine, just be mindful of our little miracle down the hall, and your job that puts you much closer to prying eyes." He gave a half-hearted laugh. "Honestly, Edward, I am not entirely sure what it is you feel we're missing in that department."

It was Ed's turn to remain quiet.

"If this is why you want to leave, whatever. But that still doesn't explain why you want Annabelle. If you're planning on taking over the underground to fill that bad boy void, fine. Separated, divorced, or married, I will support you any way I can. You know that. However, you can't easily do that when you have sole custody of a child that you're raising without the daily help of her father."

Oswald watched the expression on Ed's face change. He knew his husband would have a difficult time raising Annabelle on his own. Hell, Oswald knew he himself would have it hard without help. Annabelle required both parents. Ed often went to work from 9-5 every day, with the exception of days when he was called in for a case or the hours were odd. Because of this, Oswald was the one who would dress and feed Annabelle, and take her to school. He'd handle the politics of being an academy parent by schmoozing with the room mothers and room father, ensuring Ed and himself had good standing so that Annabelle would be invited to birthday parties, play dates, and the like. Next, he'd see about his club and his underground threads. By then, he needed to pick Annabelle up from school. Ed collected her on days when his work hours allowed him. On Ed's days, once they arrived home, he'd either play _Portal_ and allow Annabelle to watch and help by pointing things out on the screen, or he'd pass her the controller so that she could play, with his help, _The Unfinished Swan_ for twenty minutes. Edward and Oswald alternated who cooked at night, who would bathe Annabelle and supervise bath time, and who would help her with brushing her teeth. They both tucked her in. One would read her a book, while the other would rub soothing circles on her back until she fell asleep. Finally, Oswald would pack her lunch and Edward would pick out her outfit for the next day.

Without each other, it would be hard. Not unmanageable, but definitely not ideal. Ed might be able to handle the day to day. However, Oswald knew for sure that Ed was incapable of the amount of flattery, sycophantic behavior, and subterfuge it took for him to ensure Annabelle's social rank in the school. That's what bothered him the most about the whole thing. Oswald could get over what it would do to him, but he wouldn't get over the effect it would have on Annabelle. He and Edward grew up experiencing the hells of education. He'd be damned if she was passed over for invites, or bullied the way her parents were simply because Ed, a disliked parent on campus, received rights to Annabelle.

Oswald placed his hand into the water as he reached for a sponge. He shook his head with lowered eyes and said, "I know you're going to do what you want. I-I know you're selfish at times...we both are." He looked back at his husband. "But I honestly didn't think you'd be _this_ selfish, Edward. I guess I was wrong."

"I don't want sole custody!" confessed Ed. "I knew...I knew it would hurt you, so I just said it. I don't know why. I don't mean it."

Oswald nodded. "Wow. I want to be surprised, but honestly, I've got nothing."

Ed rubbed his eyes and sunk down to the floor. He sat back against the cabinets, legs outstretched before him, the backs of his hands resting on his thighs in defeat. "I'm realizing during this discussion that it's more of a me issue than a you one."

"You don't say."

"And I know I shouldn't have served you the papers that way. I should've talked with you about how I was feeling. I shouldn't have threatened to take Annabelle away. God!" Ed gripped his hair in his fists. "What is wrong with me? Taking AB from you? I-I-I can't raise her by myself. I'm not cut out for that! We'd have to co-parent. Even then I'd rely so heavily on you that she'd might as well be yours. She's my flesh and blood—"

" _Careful, now_."

"And-and-and I can't even take care of her by myself." He dropped his hands. "I certainly don't want to. I need you, Oswald. I do. Annabelle needs you. God, I'm so stupid."

Oswald sat up straight. He watched his husband as he came unglued. He'd noticed years ago, when Edward first accepted his Riddler self, that there was a struggle inside the lanky man. Edward wanted the villainous life. He wanted what Penguin had, wanted to do things the way he did. He also wanted a family. He wanted Kristen, and that white picket fence life of normality she represented. Oswald knew that the only reason why Ed wanted Isabella so desperately was because she was that idea on a familiar face. He and Ed had been so close to having each other then, but things got mixed up. Things also got better. Ed finally admitted it to himself, and to Oswald, when it was almost too late for the latter man. Ed accepted his bisexuality, and the idea that there was actually something there for Oswald. He was completely willing to see what would happen between them. Now, here they were, years later, and Ed was still fighting with himself. He couldn't reconcile his desire for a "normal" life, and his urges for the criminal lifestyle in Gotham and the power it brought.

"Do you really want a divorce?" asked Oswald. "Or did you just think that it would help you reach your goals? Because honestly, we can swap roles. You can quit and deal more in the underground, while I take up something else. Money isn't a concern. What's best for your sanity and Annabelle is."

"I don't know. I don't want to lose either of you, but..." Ed's voice dropped off and he shook his head. He struggled to find a way to explain himself. He took off his glasses and pressed his fingers to his eyes again.  _You can't cry about this. Not again. Not in front of him. You don't have a right to. Stop it! Stop it!_ "Stop it!" Oswald started. Ed caught his husband's eyes. "I'm so sorry. Oz, I..."

The younger man softened. "Edward, come here."

Ed removed his shirt and slid his boxers to his ankles. Oswald pulled his knees into his chest, allowing the taller man to climb in across from him. The water was lukewarm at this point but neither man truly cared. Ed reached his arms forward, using the sides of the tub closest to Oswald to raise himself slightly. Oswald instinctively straightened his legs. He knew what was coming. Water sloshed over the edge as Ed half straddled his husband, his right leg stretched behind him, his left knee to the side of Oswald's right hip. Ed brought one hand to the back of the tub and used the other to cup his husband's jaw. The kiss was rough at first, a grinding of lips against teeth. Ed's mouth parted, granting Oswald the opportunity to introduce a softer approach. He slowed them down by slipping his tongue against his. Ed moaned and brought himself closer to his partner. Oswald planted rushed kisses along his cheek, jaw, and neck, then back to his cheek. He noticed then that Edward was crying. His stomach dropped. He longed to make it better, to make him okay. Their mouths collided again. Oswald gasped and leaned into Ed, who sucked on his bottom lip before they parted. They rested their foreheads against each other's. Ed stole another kiss. What was he thinking? He couldn't let Oswald go. He allowed himself to sob.

"Hey," Oswald touched his cheek. "Listen to me. If it will help you, I won't sign the papers."

Ed's eyes cast downward. "I don't want to divorce you."

"Then you won't. See? That simple."

"But what are we going to do about AB?" Ed's eyebrows furrowed. "She's going to be so confused. One minute her daddies are divorcing, the next they're fine. She's already upset, and she's drawing things, and—"

"Stop. We'll figure it out in the morning. She's going to be fine. Now, about you. You are going to start by getting some rest. Okay?"

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hinted at it in the chapter, but for the purpose of this fic/series, Ed didn't shoot Oswald. At the docks, Oswald's speech was enough to make Ed put the gun away and for them to talk things out.


	4. Pancakes

_"It's your turn to go," said Oswald, shrugging on his coat._

_Ed felt an ache in his stomach. "I don't think it's appropriate for me to go. The parents don't like me, and there's bound to be rumors—"_

_"All the more reason for you to go. You need to get your face ingrained into their minds in a positive way." Oswald put his hands on his husband's shoulders. "All you have to do is make small talk, sit down in the cafeteria, eat pancakes with Annabelle, then go to work. It'll be over before you know it."_  
  
_Pancakes with Parents was a biannual event at the academy. One that Ed had on his list of reasons why Annabelle would be attending a different academy the following school year._

_"I," Ed wrung his hands, "I really don't think I should."_

_Oswald pressed his lips into a line. "It's an unspoken rule that it is important for one parent to be present for the first and the other for the second. If not, their child will suffer socially. Since we both know you dislike pumpkin flavoring, I went to the fall one." He gestured at Ed. "It's your turn to go to this one."_

_"Ugh, fine. I'll go."_

_"Thank you. They're actually pretty good pancakes."_

_"It's not the pancakes. It's the principle."_

_"Principle?" asked Oswald. "What principle may I ask is that?"_

_Ed set down his coffee. "I'm 98.76% certain that the only reason why the name of the event is called Pancakes with Parents and not Muffins with Mom or Donuts with Dad or any other equivalent was due to you and me being the only gay parents this prep academy had seen in a few years."_

" _The Keans—"_

_"—are the one lesbian couple GCPA has seen in the last five years. We are the first gay couple to my knowledge. Their twin daughter and son attended a few years ahead of Annabelle, back when the mandatory breakfasts went by more specific names." Ed took a sip of coffee, allowing Oswald time to mull over the facts. "While I am grateful for the academy's push toward inclusiveness, I don't like that the event's name changed the year Annabelle started."_

_"Did you consider that perhaps the Keans started it?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Well…" Oswald poked his lip out and lifted his eyebrows with a smile._

_"What?"_

_"Part of the reason why they withdrew the twins was due to the children's behavior—"_

_"That's a given."_

_"I know—and because the academy wanted Babs and Tabs to be the faces for their marketing. GCPA welcomes_ all _families from_ all _backgrounds, underworld or not, from_ all _races."_

_Ed nearly choked on his coffee. "Are you seriou—How did I not know about this?!"_

_"You know, you really should attend brunch at least once." Oswald continued. "Suffice it to say the Keans were quite unhappy. In fact, they hated it. That offer, on top of everything else they experienced….Tabitha had had it, but wanted to quietly withdraw the kids. And she did, of course. But Babs was shocked and outraged—"_

_"Well," the taller man adjusted his glasses, "she came from privilege."_

_"Exactly. It got ugly. Let's just say when Belle got her acceptance letter, GCPA practically begged me to agree to send her and assured me up and down that, after the turnover, things would be different."_

_"Wow."_

_"Yup."_

_Ed shrugged. "She's still not going back in the fall."_

_"Mm-hmm. Besides, those prep academy moms are insufferable." Oswald kissed him and patted his cheek. "Now, have fun."_

* * *

Now Ed stood in the parking lot of Gotham City Prep Academy unbuckling Annabelle from her car seat with dread. He was not at all confident about encountering people who only tolerated him because of his husband. He placed Annabelle's backpack on his shoulder, lifted his daughter into his arms, and shut and locked the door behind him. As he approached the school, Ed began to notice the sidelong glances several parents shot in his direction.

Ed kissed her temple. "Does Daddy carry you?"

"Nope," said Annabelle. "But it's 'cause he says the mommies don't like it."

"Well, the mommies can get over it for one day, don't you think?"

Annabelle nodded and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Mr. Nygma."

Ed's eyes settled on a woman in activewear and Sketchers. Her red hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. If he recalled correctly, and he always did, her name was Taryn-Beth Anders. He could never refer to her as just Taryn or Taryn-Beth the way Oswald could because he didn't have the same pull as his husband. Taryn-Beth Anders was one of the Queen Bees (QB's as they were called) of the school. As such, she received full name treatment. It was part of the school social mores that he didn't quite understand. Oswald had managed to get into her circle, and was highly respected by Taryn-Beth Anders, which put Oswald on the second tier of popularity, well above the peons but just below the QB's. Ed knew if he put forth more effort toward being involved in Annabelle's school politics, he'd be as revered as his husband. It was all a game, one that Ed didn't want to waste time mastering.

"Well, hi there!" Taryn-Beth flashed her veneers at him. She shifted her gaze to Annabelle and gently pinched her cheek. "Hiya-cutie."

Annabelle waved. "Hi, Miss Taryn."

"Aww! Still sleepy, huh, _Belle-Belle_?"

Ed swallowed his surprise. Of course, his daughter could call this mother by her first name only. And who was she to call his daughter _Belle-Belle_? It made complete sense and no sense at the same time.

"Hello, Taryn-Beth Anders." He adjusted Annabelle's position on his hip. "It's Nygma-Cobblepot actually. Oz and I took each others—"

"Oh, I know. I just assumed." When Ed failed to understand, Taryn-Beth waved a hand. "You know...given the circumstances."

"Circumstances?"

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "You know... _the D_?"

Ed furrowed his brow and stared at her, mouth slightly open. After still struggling to determine just what she meant by 'the D', he shook his head. "I'm sorry. _The_ _what_?"

"Melissa said you and Ozzy are getting a," she glanced at Annabelle, then quickly spelled, "d-i-v-o-r-c-e."

"Oh!" He placed a hand to his chest and gave a relieved laugh. "That."

"I figured since you're the one bringing Annabelle to school today and all."

"Oswald and I aren't getting one of those. We're doing quite well. It was a horrible misunderstanding."

"Well, that's great! Is Oswald going to join us for the pancake breakfast?"

Ed pushed his glasses up his nose. "Um, no, actually. I am."

"Oh, good." Taryn-Beth slapped on a fake smile. "I'll see you and Annabelle in the cafeteria then."

"Yes, you will."

He watched her go, processing the disappointment on her face. Ed had just managed to brush off her reaction when he entered the cafeteria and received looks similar to ones he'd received in the parking lot. He set Annabelle on her feet as they got in line. Ed hoped the action would stop the stares, but it didn't. The room was full of mothers, with the exception of five fathers. Darrin, Aaron, Darryl, Michael, and Jordi were the stay-at-home dads. Ed liked them well enough, but he found it difficult to fit into their group. They nodded at him as he walked past, he gave them a smile. It became increasingly clear to Ed that Oswald was right. He really did need to put more effort into participating at GCPA. With Annabelle hovering close by his leg, Ed grabbed a tray made his way down the serving line.

"Thank you for your work as a parent of GCPA!" A petite blonde with freckles beamed at Ed. "We appreciate you and your adorable daughter!"

Ed briefly wondered if she had to say this to every parent. With a plate in each hand, the blonde outstretched her arms over the metal buffet. The first had two thick medium-sized pancakes, while the second had four sand dollar sized pancakes. He thanked her as he placed the plates on his tray.

Ed glanced down at his daughter. "What do we say?"

"Thank you," said Annabelle.

He moved down the line where another woman scooped fresh fruit salad onto plates. He eyed the mixture as he grew closer. It consisted of grapes, carefully balled cantaloupe and watermelon, and strawberries.

"Fresh fruit?" she asked.

"Do you have any other fruit?" Ed gestured his hand over the top of Annabelle's head. "She's allergic to strawberries."

"Yes, we do. Just slide on down. Mrs. Kersie has packaged apples and other alternative options for those with allergies and intolerances."

"Thank you."

Continuing to the left, he encountered the aforementioned teacher who provided him and Annabelle with a package of apple slices and a Halo mandarin orange each. On their way out of the line, Ed picked up a water bottle for both of them. He balanced the tray in one hand and took Annabelle's hand in the other.

"Where do you want to sit, AB?" he asked.

She pointed to an empty table.

"Lead the way."

Ed followed Annabelle to a small round table with three chairs. Once she sat down, he placed her plate and utensils in front of her. Annabelle swung her legs back and forth as she stared up at her father with a smile. Oswald would kill him if he didn't take a picture. Ed snapped a quick photo with his phone and sent it to his husband with the text:

 _What's cute, content, and about to be full of pancakes?_  
xx  
  
Ed set his own plate down and sat across from Annabelle. He took to cutting her food for her. As she looked at him as though he was her world, Ed couldn't help but to feel as though he didn't fully deserve it. Oswald was the one who wanted a child much more than Edward. Ed loved Annabelle with all of his heart and it started the first time he held her in his arms. Even the names they'd picked for Annabelle to call them were fitting. Oswald would always be _daddy_ , close and familial. Ed would be _dad_ , close but a bit further away in comparison to what Oswald offered. It showed in the way Ed was treated today by the other parents. If he wasn't careful he'd be demoted to _father_ , cold and distant. At least Annabelle still called them both _daddy_ often enough. He'd have to make the most of that while it lasted.

He remembered how he panicked when he first heard her heartbeat during the ultrasound. Annabelle had been nothing but a theory. At one small point, he was ashamed to say, she'd been something to pacify Oswald. The smaller man had been so desperate for a family. Ed had simply wanted one and thought the two of them would be nice as parents. Penguin had gotten on his nerves with all of his wallowing in self pity about his fertility, so Ed provided the egg for his feathered partner to balance on his feet, so to speak. He had been frustrated. But that steady _thump-thump-thump_ of Annabelle's changed it all. He remembered coming home and safety proofing the house. Later, Oswald would find him crying in the mint and gray themed nursery at four in the morning, surrounded by pieces of a crib he had attempted to assemble. He thought it was about the crib at first, until he noticed his husband struggling to breathe. Ed's panic attack that night had been a long time coming, and Oswald had wondered when the gravity of Annabelle's impending arrival would hit his partner. Edward had been scared then—hell, he was still terrified at times—but he wouldn't change or trade his daughter for anything.

"Someone's all smiles this morning," said Ed. He quickly opened her apples and began to peel her orange.

The small girl shrugged with a laugh. "I like time with you."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." Annabelle picked up her fork. "I have a lot of time with small daddy."

Ed chuckled at her reference to Oswald. "Do you want less time with small daddy?"

"No. But I want more time with-with you."

"Well, I'm going to try make more time for you, AB."

Annabelle narrowed her eyes. Ed felt his heart sink. Did she really not believe him? Perhaps it was the use of the word _try_.

"I mean it," he said, leaning forward. "I really, really do."

She held up her pinky. "Promise."

It wasn't a question or a statement. Ed gave into her demand and linked his right pinky with hers. "I promise."

Slightly satisfied, Annabelle tilted her head. "Extra promise?"

Ed could see the conflict as she asked him for assurance. He kissed their linked fingers three times. It was something he and Annabelle shared that surprised Oswald whenever he witnessed the exchange.

"Pinky, pinky."

"Promise, promise, promise," said Ed. He wiggled the fingers of his other hand over their bond. "And an extra promise on top."

Annabelle giggled and dropped her hand.

"I love you, AB."

"I love you, too, daddy."

* * *

Ed had just loaded a tissue sample onto a microscope stage when his phone rang. One glance at the ID sent his mind racing. He quickly answered. 

"This is Edward. Yes….Again? What happened?...I'll...my husband or I will be there...Thank you." He ended the call and speed-dialed his partner. As the line trilled, he rubbed his forehead. "Frick, frick, frick."

"What is it?" asked Oswald.

"Well, good afternoon to you, too, dear."

"I apologize for my tone, but my supplier is being less than reliable. What's going on, you sound—"

"Annabelle is in trouble."

Oswald paused. After a moment, he calmly said, "Well, no one would be ignorant enough to attempt kidnapping again. I'm assuming something's happened at school?"

"Yes." Ed removed his gloves. "Apparently, our darling Annabelle cut Amber's hair during craft time. Now, I don't know which mom Amber belongs to, nor do I care, but I have a feeling it's one of the QB's."

"You're close. Amber's the daughter of Stacy, whose a second tier with me. She used to be a thirdie—"

"I'm sorry, but just what the hell is going on in that building? It's so high school with these parents. Does the administration know about all of these cliques?"

"Yes, and they don't seem to be concerned."

"I highly doubt that." Ed shook his head. "Oz, Annabelle is in the Headmistress's office again. Can you attend the meeting?"

Oswald sighed. "Unfortunately, no. I'm still _establishing expectations_."

Ed knew his husband well enough to know exactly what that meant. That supplier would wish for death by the time he was done with him.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"I can't go back up to that school. You should have seen the looks I got this morning and Taryn-Beth Anders talked to me and wanted to know if we were getting, and I quote, _the D_ —"

"Melissa must have told her! What did she say?"

"Oswald, Annabelle."

"You know what, nevermind. I'll do damage control later. Can you please just pick up Annabelle?" A man's apologies and pleas, along with the sound of physical blows became evident on the other line. "Ed, I really have to finish taking care of this. Please, can you do this?"

"Yes. Okay."

"Pebbles."

"Answers."

It was their way of saying _I love you_ when they didn't have time, or when they were in a situation where it couldn't be made known that they were on the phone with their partner. After all, having someone—or some _ones_ —they cared about presented a weakness. Oswald learned that the hard way, as had Ed. But they both were reminded of that harsh reality when Annabelle was barely two.

Ed continued to stare at the phone although the call had long since ended. He did not want to have to go back up to the school. _Why are you complaining? You posed the idea of having sole custody of Annabelle._

"Yeah, but that was when I wanted it and the divorce." Ed muttered. He removed his lab coat and began packing his bag in an attempt to distract himself from himself.

_You'd have to handle Annabelle alone and you can't even do that._

"That's not true," he whispered.

 _No wonder Oswald agreed not to sign the papers. He only did that 'cause he saw how pathetic you were last night._ _He knows you can't handle being a single parent. Hell, forget single. You could barely handle taking her to school and now you're freaking out over attending a conference without your husband. Hah!_

He grabbed his keys. "I'm not freaking out."

_Says the man talking to himself again. Some dad you are._

"Stop!"

Ed shook his head. No, he couldn't argue with himself. He didn't have time to. He needed to suck up his anxieties and go to the conference. He needed be responsible for Annabelle and, for once, not depend on Oswald for everything.


	5. Enough

" _Where...is...my daughter?_ " Edward clenched his teeth so tightly that his jaw began to ache. "Bring her to me.  _Now_."

The Headmistress folded her hands atop her desk while Ms. Riesling trembled beside her. "Your daughter will be brought to you momentarily, Mr. Nygma."

"It's Nygma-Cobblepot. I want my daughter  _now_."

"Mr. Nygma-Cobblepot, our conference is not complete. Annabelle cut a student's hair. This is unacceptable behavior, and against the code of conduct. We must agree upon a plan of action—"

"No," said Ed. "There is no plan of action. Ms. Vance admitted that Annabelle did nothing wrong."

The Headmistress and Ms. Riesling turned to the woman standing in the corner. Ms. Vance's dark eyes penetrated both women over her glasses. She rolled the sleeves of her turquoise blouse up her arms. Ed immediately noticed the redness of a scar on her forearm against her deep complexion.

"Please," Ms. Vance said with a shake of her head. "Mr. Nygma-Cobblepot, I'd much rather I stayed out of this."

Her tone was calm and steady, but he could hear an underlying current of fear. Ed didn't blame her. Ms. Vance looked as though she belonged in high school, not earning her student teaching credits for a Bachelor's. He crossed one knee over the other. "I apologize for dragging you into this, but your story is the only one in this room with an ounce of credibility. You told me Annabelle was not the one who cut Amber's hair."

The student teacher sighed. "This is correct. I only witnessed Jasmine cutting Amber's hair with real scissors. When Annabelle was playing with the girls, she 'cut' using her fingers. Amber is the one who asked her to play Beauty Parlor. Annabelle had been sitting by the window coloring. Given the previous incident with Amber and Jasmine and hair, I wanted to make sure I kept an eye on the girls. We didn't need another girl to end up of like Annabelle." She waved her hand. "I went to help Jude with something for a bit. When I looked up again, I saw Annabelle play-cutting Amber's hair with her fingers. I distinctly heard her say, and I quote, 'my daddies say I'm not 'posed to play with scissors'. I looked down at Jude's blocks. When I looked up again, Jasmine had scissors in her hand. Of course, I immediately stood up to take them from her. Before I could get across the room, I witnessed Jasmine nudge Annabelle out of the way and start clipping off a strand of Amber's hair. When I came over Jasmine and Amber said Annabelle did it. I know what I saw and I can't believe those children would boldly lie. And to my face! I've never...I'm just shocked."

"Thank you, Ms. Vance." Ed straightened in his chair. "You just corroborated what I already expected."

The Headmistress slammed her hands on her desk. "Mr. Ngyma-Cobblepot, I cannot have you questioning my teachers this way. This is highly irregular and absolutely uncalled for behavior."

"Um, no." Ed made a face and gestured at her. "I think your actions are the irregularity. Your insistence that Annabelle is the one to blame is absolutely uncalled for. And what  _questioning_  are you referring to? I only asked Ms. Vance to recount what she witnessed."

"Um," Ms. Riesling shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, although, Annabelle told me she was innocent, Amber and Jasmine say that Annabelle is the one that did this." She looked from him to Ms. Vance. "I know what you saw, and I'm sorry but Annabelle did this. You must be mistaken."

"No. I know I'm not mistaken," said Ms. Vance. "Despite what they told you, it was Jasmine who cut Amber's hair. Those two little girls pretend to be friends with Annabelle. They're bullies. You can't show fa—"

"That is not true!"

"Ladies." The Headmistress cleared her throat and held up an auburn lock of hair. " _This_  belongs to Amber. Your daughter did this, Mr. Nygma-Cobblepot."

Edward opened his mouth to retort when someone rapped three times on the heavy wood door.

"Come in."

A tired-looking woman ushered Annabelle into the office, then promptly closed the door. Anger filled his chest and sent adrenaline pumping to his legs. He got to his feet. His daughter's skin, her green plaid jumper, and the white blouse beneath it were smeared with yellow paint. She shuffled into the room. Annabelle stared down at her Mary Janes, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

The Headmistress grimaced. "Ah, Miss Cobblepot."

The girl inched closer and lifted her chin. The pinkness in her cheeks and eyes reminded Ed of Oswald's face just days before. At the sight of her father, Annabelle immediately ran up to him. He caught his daughter, lifting her up into his arms as a broken whine escaped her. The trembling of her body sent fear through his mind. Something awful had to have happened to leave Annabelle so visibly shaken. She hiccuped against his shoulder. He shushed her, but she only cried harder.

"Shh. Oh, honey,  _honey. Shh.._ it's okay. I'm here. It's okay." Ed set his sights on the Headmistress. "Are you going to tell me that Annabelle did this to herself?"

"Sir," she began, "what seems to have happened to Annabelle is quite unfortunate—"

"No, what's quite unfortunate is that you are about—"

"We don't take kindly to threats, Mr. Nygma-Cobblepot."

"Oh, no. I wasn't about to threaten you. I was only going to deliver a promise. I'm leaving, but this discussion is far from over. My husband is much more understanding. I, however, have had enough."

Edward couldn't walk to the car fast enough. That school had no idea who they were crossing. He strapped his distraught daughter into her car seat. He felt incredibly thankful that he'd stopped by the mansion to get her penguin. That just in case measure was very much needed right now. He held up the plush toy. "Want Mr. Waddles to give you a hug?"

Annabelle nodded and accepted the penguin. She began to sob into its fur.

"AB, what happened?"

"Jasmine cut Amber's hair for real."

Ed closed his eyes. Annabelle had mentioned Jasmine and Amber at least three times before. Once was positive, the other two times involved something less than satisfactory. Annabelle mentioned the two of them to him about three weeks ago in Costco.

* * *

_"No! You may not get the Trix!"_

_Barbara put the box back on the large pallet, while her son began to pout. His twin sister pointed at a different cereal. The seven-year-old brushed a brown curl away from her eyes._

_"Mama, I want that!"_

_"Bailey, no. If Braeden can't have what he wants, you can't have Cocoa Puffs. You're both getting Lucky Charms and that's the last I'm going to say about that."_

_"Gross!"_

_Braeden cut his blue-green eyes in his sister's direction. "Whatever. More for me."_

_The Kean-Galavan twins were a combination of their parents genes that Ed and Oswald aspired toward when they looked into having children. Unfortunately, they found that achieving such things required siblings and neither man had that option. Edward pushed his own cart beside Barbara as they walked through the aisles. While Oswald had weekly brunches with Tabitha, the scientist went on Costco and Target runs with Barbara. As they browsed, the twins walked around them, pointing things out for their mother to accept or decline, while Annabelle sat quietly in the cart sucking her thumb._

_"Thank you for behaving," Ed whispered._

_Annabelle nodded. He removed her thumb from her mouth and, when he wasn't looking, she popped it back in._

_"I swear, my kids." Barbara gave an exasperated sigh. She turned to look at Ed and noticed Annabelle. Sitting in her hip, she said, "Nygma."_

_Ed lifted his chin in acknowledgment as he added a container of coffee creamer to his cart._

_"How long has she been doing that?"_

_"No idea," said Ed. "I'm thinking she restarted today. She didn't do it last night or this week. However, when her teacher brought her to me in the Headmistress's office, she was sucking." He pulled Annabelle's hand away from her mouth. "Annabelle, stop that."_

_Barbara rolled her eyes and began to fish around in her purse. A few moments later, she retrieved a thin red lollipop. She held it up to Annabelle. "Sweetie, if Auntie Babs gives you this, will you stop?"_

_Annabelle narrowed her eyes. She reached for the sucker, but the blonde pulled it just out of reach. The child folded her arms._

_"Uh-uh. No deal, no candy."_

_"Barbara," warned Edward._

_"What?" said Barbara. "I'm helping." She turned back to his daughter and waved the lollipop. "Look little miss pouty puss, either you agree to stop sucking your thumb or you don't get the sucker. So what's it gonna be? Will you stop?"_

_Annabelle nodded._

_"Ah-ah-ah. Yes or no?"_

_"Yes, Auntie Babs."_

_Barbara unwrapped the lollipop and handed it to the small girl, who gratefully accepted it. Ed opened his mouth to reprimand the blonde for rewarding his daughter for her behavior._

_"That's no fair!" Braeden stamped his foot. "I want a sucker!"_

_Bailey copied his action. "Me too!"_

_Barbara shrugged. "You don't get suckers when you act like babies."_

_"She's acting like a baby."_

_"Hey." Annabelle made a face and took the candy out of her mouth. "I'm not a baby."_

_"You suck your thumb like one!" said Braeden._

_"LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

_Ed and Barbara stared at Annabelle for her outburst. Neither adult had heard her shout so angrily at either twin, or anyone else for that matter. A few people stared in their direction. Braeden looked embarrassed._

_"Ooooh, Braedie! Look what you did," Bailey giggled. "You really made her mad."_

_"You started it," grumbled Braeden._

_Ed looked down at Annabelle. He couldn't decide if he was upset with her for yelling, or proud that she stood up for herself. He lifted her chin and she met his eyes. Annabelle knew what was about to happen before her father could even speak. Her bottom lip began to tremble._

_"We'll talk about this later," said Edward. "Understand?"_

_"I don't like when kids are mean to me." Annabelle huffed. "Kids are always mean to me."_

_"Who is mean to you?"_

_"Amber and Jasmine."_

_He frowned. "Wait a minute, aren't those the girls that took your penguin during show-and-tell?"_

_Annabelle nodded._

_"Honey, what—" Barbara stopped. "Holy...Nygma, you gotta nip that. Like pronto. I wouldn't be shocked if they 'accidentally' cut her hair on purpose."_

_"They were the ones she was playing with that day." Ed made a face. "You don't think...?"_

_"Oh yeah. The same thing happened to Bailey at that place. Girls thought her curls were pretty. The teachers don't give a damn. Bay punched the kid who tried to cut it. Annabelle's penguin is cute. I'd be jealous too."_

_"Do you really think they're jealous?"_

_"Who knows. But it sounds like Annabelle is being bullied, and if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that girls can be ruthless with it. You need to do something."_

* * *

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose. Why hadn't he done more after that day? Why hadn't he noticed the signs before? Deep down he knew why. It was because he only paid attention to things that were seemingly important. Well, that and Oswald was the more attentive parent. He knew once he told his husband about the details of today's incidents, Oswald would say he already knew about the two girls. Hell, he'd probably list previous offenses and describe conversations he'd had with their moms. Annabelle's sniffs and gasping sobs caught his attention.

"Daddy, I told her not to. I-I told her...she'd get in trouble." She hiccuped. "They told the teacher...I-I-I did it. I didn't do it. I told them so, and Amber and Jasmine called me a liar. I'm not a liar. You told me not to play with scissors. I didn't do it."

"I know, sweetie. I know. Can you tell me why you're covered in paint? Did they do that too?"

"We went to art class and...we were playing paints and-and-and—"

"Breathe," said Ed as he stroked her hair. "Take a deep breath. You're not in trouble, AB. I'm not angry. Daddy won't be angry either when he finds out."

Annabelle took a slow breath in and out. She wrung the penguin's beak in her hands. "Amber put the brush on my dress with the paint on it. I told her to-to-to stop. She didn't listen. Daddy, she put paint on my clothes. Jasmine helped her. I told them to stop. They said I was a liar. I-I-I did something bad. I didn't want to do it...but they wouldn't stop and-and-and I did what Auntie Babs said."

"What did Auntie Babs say? What did you do?"

"She said not to let people hurt me. She said if someone does something to hurt me, to hurt them back, so I-I-I pushed them. Then they pushed me back. I'm sorry."

"Annabelle, you have nothing to be sorry for. You told me the truth. It's okay, honey. I promise. It'll be okay."

His words did nothing for his daughter, who continued to hiccup and shake. As Ed got into the car and fastened his seatbelt, he glanced at Annabelle through the rear view mirror. He noticed how her hair stuck up at odd angles like her father's. Oswald would be livid once he saw Annabelle's clothes and Ed shared the contents of the conference with him. If there was anything he knew for certain, it was just how cruel his husband could be when the situation warranted it. Under that polite and precocious exterior was a ruthless man. In his treatment of Oswald over the past few days, Edward had forgotten that detail. His husband could truly destroy him if he wanted to, if The Riddler ever crossed the line. As he turned a corner, he felt himself become quite grateful that he withdrew the divorce papers. He knew Oswald would have won in multiple ways if he'd gone through with it. The Penguin would have made him suffer, slowly and intimately (and likely physically) throughout the process, leaving Ed wishing he'd stayed.

Gotham City Prep Academy thought they had a problem on their hands when Barbara unleashed hell on them. She was nothing compared to his husband. Oswald would make every teacher and parent who even remotely had any involvement pay dearly for Annabelle's suffering.

"Daddy?"

Ed made brief eye contact with Annabelle through the mirror. "Yes, AB?"

"Daddy...I..." The four-year-old rubbed her nose along her right arm, then wiped her cheek with her left hand. She sniffled. "Daddy, I don't wanna go to school anymore."

"AB, you have to go school. But I assure you, it won't be at that school anymore. Is that okay?" He glanced up in time to see her nod. "I'll talk to daddy about it when he gets home. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine. I promise."


	6. Goodnight, Sweetheart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in posting the next chapter. Thank you all for your comments and kudos. It means so much to me. I hope you enjoy this one!

" _I hate to leave you but I really must say, goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight._ "

Edward stood and clicked off the lamp by Annabelle's bed. He'd just reached the doorway when she whimpered. Ed sighed. A quick glance at her bed informed him that she was still awake. If he was going to be stuck singing his daughter to sleep for another fifteen minutes, he would need to pick a different song.

" _Hush little AB, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird..._ "

Ed continued to sing, moving quietly to his previous position on the floor beside Annabelle's bed. As he worked his way through the lullaby, he waited somewhat impatiently for her to fall asleep. Oswald still hadn't come home and it was reaching nine. Edward stared at the ceiling of the bedroom, his body slumped against the wall. Taking care of Annabelle alone tonight made him never want to do it again. She'd been so combative.

It started with dinner. He'd fed their daughter a slapped together meal of chicken fettuccine and spinach salad. Annabelle ate most of her salad without protest, but wouldn't touch the tomatoes. He asked her to eat at least one small slice but she refused. The two went back and forth until Annabelle nearly threw a tantrum and Ed had to threaten the possibility of time out. She ate a slice of the tomato, glaring at him the entire time she chewed.

When it came time for her bath, Annabelle eagerly entered the bubble-filled claw foot tub. He let her soak for a five minutes as she played with her bath toys. He knew he'd have to actually scrub some of the paint off her skin and out of her hair, and the thought of doing so filled him with dread. Oswald was the one who gave her baths. He was the one that could wash her hair without her fidgeting or getting soap in her eyes. Ed swallowed his anxiety, rolled up his sleeves, and lathered shampoo into her hair. Annabelle pitched a fit during the rinsing stages. She whined when he took a washcloth to her skin and gently scrubbed the paint away. Ed didn't exactly blame her for this reaction. Oswald normally used a large rounded sponge to bathe her, never a towel.

Once Annabelle was free from all traces of paint, Ed dried her off and dressed her in her favorite pajamas. He thanked the parenting gods that he had no problems helping her to brush her teeth. Then came bedtime. She spent an hour struggling to fall asleep. He read her stories and rubbed her back. He even gave her warm milk. Yet Annabelle continued to lie awake, so he took to singing. It was a last resort of his, but it always worked without fail—or at least it did until tonight.

" _Papa's gonna buy you a dog named Rover_ ," Ed stopped. He glanced back at Annabelle. She had rolled onto her side, her eyes moving beneath her lids, her thumb in her mouth. He stood. "Sleep tight, AB."

He cautiously tapped on the nightlight. When Annabelle didn't stir, Ed took the baby monitor and left her bedroom. The scientist looked at his watch. Where  _was_  his husband?  _He should be getting home soon_ , Ed hoped. He noticed a bit of alfredo sauce on his vest and swore. Treating the stain would have to wait until after he cleaned the kitchen. Fatigue weighed heavy on him as he descended the stairs. He needed a shower. He needed a glass of wine. He needed Oswald.

Edward plopped onto the couch and stretched his legs out beside him. He needed to sit down for a moment. It was relatively quiet in the manor. After the taxing day, the lack of noise helped him relax. He ran his hands over his face. Why was he dumb enough to think he could do this every day without Oswald? He rested his head against the back of the couch. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner and Annabelle's breathing from the monitor became a lullaby to his ears. He just needed to close his eyes for a minute.  


* * *

  
Oswald arrived home with dried blood splattered across his suit and tie. He trudged toward the living room, noting just how quiet things were. Worry began to plague his mind. Edward hadn't replied to any of his texts, nor had he answered his phone when Oswald called twice to tell him he'd be late getting home. The part of him feared that his husband had changed his mind about the divorce, that Ed had used this night as an opportunity to take Annabelle and disappear. He took a detour to the kitchen.

"Great."

Pots were still on the cold stove with noodles and sauce in them, and unwashed plates and utensils were in the sink. He frowned. Ed never left things as a mess in the kitchen. The forensic scientist's anal retentive tendencies usually made for quick and easy cleanups after either of them cooked. Oswald found Edward's phone on the counter. He flipped it open and looked at the display.

_8 text messages_

_2 missed calls_

_2 voicemails_

He shut the phone and continued on to the living room. Oswald's mind eased slightly. Ed wouldn't leave without his phone. Still, the mess in the kitchen, the missed calls, and the silence of the house unsettled him. He hurried into the next room.

"Ed!" He called. "Edw—"

He stopped. Ed slept soundly on the couch. Relief flooded Oswald's body. He leaned his cane against the side table, stumbled toward a chair, and sat down. He placed his head in his hands.  _You're okay_ , Oswald told himself.  _He didn't leave you. It's okay._  He took a deep breath.

Edward lay on his back, his long legs stretched across the cushions, his right arm dangling off the edge of the couch. His eyebrows were furrowed. His left hand rested on his stomach. Oswald glanced at Ed's wedding band as though it wouldn't still be in its place on the taller man's ring finger. Edward started awake. He glanced frantically from right to left, until his sight settled on his husband.

"You're home." Ed groaned and brought a hand to his eyes. " _Oh, thank heavens._  Honey, we have a major problem."

Oswald scoffed. "You're very perceptive. The kitchen is a mess. You didn't answer the phone. What happened?"

"Annabelle decided to be obstinate tonight. She wouldn't eat her vegetables and threw a full-tilt diva tantrum. She may have my genes, but I think she learned that from you."

"Oh, no, honey." Oswald gave a bitter smile. "She definitely got the dramatics from you. If you excuse me, I'm going to clean the kitchen."

Edward frowned as he watched his husband limp out of the room. He wasn't sure what he'd managed to do to irritate Oswald so soon after he came home. Was it really because of the mess he'd left after cooking? He hadn't done it intentionally. All of the crying Annabelle had done due to the incident at school made her cranky. Edward needed to get her to bed, and that meant leaving the clean up for later. He shook his head. No, it was most likely the comment about Annabelle's parentage. He hadn't meant for it to be a barb. Ed rubbed his eyes. He'd have to apologize.

Could anything go right today? From the incident with Taryn Beth-Anders this morning to pissing off his husband, today was awful. Edward knew better than to follow after his husband when he was agitated, but he figured the few moments head start he'd given him was enough time for him to cool off. He entered the kitchen to find his husband scrubbing a pot.

"Oz…you were quite terse—"

Oswald tossed a brillo pad into the sink and shot his husband a look. "I'm frustrated, Edward."

"And covered with blood." Edward took in the stains on the black and purple three-piece. "What on earth...what happened? Are you hurt?"

"I had to take out a weak link. Other than my leg killing me, I'm fine. Oh, but wait, I'm also tired, I'm frustrated, and I'm stressed. You're planning to divorce me, Annabelle is acting out at school, and then work made me kill someone for the first time in two months." Oswald wiped his nose with the back of his wrist. He sniffled. "I've had it, Edward. I've had enough."

"I don't understand. I told you last night that I don't want to divorce you. I love you."

"I love you, too. But if that's the case, and you really don't want to divorce me, then we need to have a talk with Annabelle. She's only acting out because she's stressed about what's happening between us."

"No, she's not acting out at school," said Ed with a shake of his head. "It was a lie the school told me."

Oswald straightened. "What?"

"When they brought our daughter to me, she was covered in yellow paint."

"I'm sorry,  _what?_ "

"Oswald, she's being bullied. Those so-called friends of AB's lied and said she cut their hair, and the teacher and Headmistress agreed—"

Oswald held up a hand. "I need a drink."

Ed watched him make his way toward the living room and followed after him. "Honey, she was inconsolable."

"Is she okay?"

"Physically, yes, but she was visibly distressed." Ed folded his arms. "She wouldn't stop crying."

"Ed, it couldn't have been—"

"If you had seen her, you'd agree. I don't know how to describe it…oh! Remember when Annabelle was teething? Think that, tenfold!"

Oswald tossed his eyes toward the ceiling then closed them. Could he not catch a break? Just one day, one  _fucking_  day, when everything didn't go horribly awry. He sat defeatedly on the couch.

"And not to add more, but the thumb-sucking has gotten worse. I can't get her to stop. I think it's because of everything that's happening at the school. She's worse than both of us when it comes to bottling things in. I'm worried her stress is leading to regression."

"Edward, just tell me what happened at the conference. Start from the beginning."

Ed began to pace and describe what happened in detail as his partner listened intently. When Ed finished, Oswald's urge to make himself a drink had grown, but he thought better of it. "I don't understand. Where was the teacher?"

"Does it matter? After listening to her, the Headmistress, and a student teacher, it seems Annabelle was innocent."

Oswald rubbed his temples. He hadn't gotten enough sleep to deal with this. His head ached. Ed sat beside him and began to wring his hands, anxious energy radiating off of him.

"Where's my baby?" asked Oswald.

"Sleeping." Ed lifted the baby monitor. "Honey, I can't send her back there in the morning. She can't go to that sorry excuse of a school."

"I agree."

"I want to murder that teacher."

"I know."

"No, Oswald. I'm serious," said Ed. "I  _really_  want to murder her. I've been thinking, and I can get saxitoxin. They won't be able to trace it to us—"

"No. We can't kill them because you would be a prime suspect. Most parents there would single you out in a heartbeat because for whatever reason they don't like you." Realizing the harshness of his words, Oswald sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be hurtful, I just...you know it's true."

"I know. God, I don't know what else we can do."

"I know, but we can't kill them. Neither of us can go to Arkham or prison. We'll have to think of something else."

"Like what?" Ed rubbed his forehead. "Honey, I'm pulling Annabelle out of that school. It's a lateral move, and I'm sorry, but I can't let her stay there."

"As much as I agree with you, we can't do that," said Oswald. "There's a month left until summer vacation. We also signed a contract locking us in until the end of the each semester."

"Then what do we do?"

"Well, since we have to stay patient, the only thing left to do is have brunch."

It took Edward a moment to realize what his partner meant. He nodded. Barbara and Tabitha would likely help by any means necessary. He hated that it even had to come to this. He hated the fact that Annabelle had suffered even more. Ed's shoulders sagged. "This is my fault. How can I help get her through this bullying when I'm an awful father?"

Oswald blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"I was bullied mercilessly in school, yet I ignored the signs in Annabelle."

"It's not your fault."

"Even if the bullying part isn't my fault, it doesn't change the fact that I'm an awful father."

Oswald gasped. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is," said Ed, his voice cracking. "I don't even know how to take care of her!"

"Of course you do. You do it every day. You did it practically all day today."

"No,  _you_  do it every day. I don't do anything."

"Edward, where is this coming from?"

"I tried to get her to eat tomatoes, which she hates—"

Oswald snorted. "That's an understatement. You have to sneak tomatoes into her food. You can't just make her eat slices of them, or she'll go ballistic."

"See, I didn't even know that." Ed waved his hand. "I had to find out the hard way. Then she didn't like it when I gave her a bath."

"Did you use a sponge?"

"No."

"There you go. She hates the feeling of washcloths during bath time."

"Oswald, I don't know all of these things about our daughter. I struggled to put her to bed. She wouldn't fall asleep easily, and I'm certain it's because you weren't there with me." Edward covered his face with his hands. "It was all too much for me to handle alone. Especially after that conference."

"It takes time, Ed. You'll get better." Oswald patted his husband's knee. "I promise."

When Ed met his eyes, Oswald leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss. Both men didn't realize how much they needed each other's affection. Ed held onto his partner's shoulders as he deepened the kiss. He wasn't sure when he'd become so dependent on Oswald in so many areas of his life, but he knew it wasn't healthy. He had to work on being a better father. If not just for the sake of removing some of his partner's stress, then for his daughter. Oswald broke the kiss and stroked his cheek.

"We'll get her through this.  _We'll_  get through this. Now, come on. I'll help you in the kitchen, and then we'll go to bed."


	7. Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick update that's more than a bit late for Nygmobblepot week and the season four premiere. Thank you all for your kudos and support!

Oswald woke up with a feeling that something was off. He wasn't exactly sure what it was, but he knew he couldn't go back to sleep until he figured it out. Edward snored beside him. The two of them fell asleep almost immediately around eleven, exhausted from their very different yet equally taxing days. Oswald reached for the baby monitor and listened intently for the gentle sounds of Annabelle sleeping. Instead, he heard her duvet rustling and what sounded like crying. The over-reactive helicopter parent in him made him get out of bed. Edward rolled onto his stomach and muttered something about trophies. Although Oswald half expected his husband to ask where he was going, he wasn't surprised when Ed continued to sleep.

The smaller man limped from their bedroom toward Annabelle's room. An eerie sense of déjà vu flooded his senses. Seven months ago, in the middle of the night, Edward and Oswald had just managed to fall asleep when someone screamed. It took them a few moments too long to realize that the scream belonged to their daughter. Oswald recalled how foreign the sound was to his ears and how startled his husband appeared. As an infant, Annabelle would wail at the top of her lungs when anything was even remotely bothersome to her. When she became a toddler, her quiet nature kicked in, leaving her parents incredibly grateful for her change in personality traits. The occasional tantrum led to screaming, but she mostly kept a low volume. They happily did away with her baby monitor and neither man thought anything of it. They failed to realize one major problem: the Van Dahl mansion was quite large and their daughter was now incredibly quiet. If she wanted to get their attention, she either had to go to them or call for him.

Annabelle always chose the first option.

So when Annabelle's scream pierced the air all those nights ago, it took them completely off guard. Oswald remembered Edward launching himself out of bed, and the sound of him barreling through the halls toward her room. He would never forget the frantic yelling of his husband.

 _"Get the car! She's hurt!"_  
  
As they waited for X-rays at the hospital, Oswald listened to Ed describe finding her bed empty and the light on in the bathroom. His husband found Annabelle crying on the tile floor while cradling her arm, a cup of water spilled beside her, apologies tumbling out of her mouth. She'd apparently tried to get their attention, but they hadn't heard her. It cost her a greenstick break. Edward and Oswald, both shaken by the incident, felt enormous guilt in the weeks following. Annabelle slept in their bed until she had her cast removed. To ensure it never happened again, they moved her room to one closer to theirs, and made the baby monitor a permanent fixture.

Tonight, Oswald hoped to God he wouldn't find Annabelle harmed. He honestly didn’t think he could handle it if he did. He approached her bedroom door in time to see his daughter walk out. Relief washed over him. Physically, she seemed okay. Yet Oswald’s instincts nagged. Annabelle rubbed her right eye with the back of her hand. Mr. Waddles was left behind on the floor of her bedroom. 

"Honey...Belle, baby, what are you doing awake? Did you have a nightmare?"

She shook her head. Tears welled in her eyes. He started to ask what was wrong, when he heard the shuffling of Ed’s feet. The scientist let out a yawn as he positioned himself beside his husband.

Ed slipped on his glasses. "AB, what's wro—oh dear. Oz."

His name became a statement and a direction all in one. Oswald blinked a few times to allow his eyes to adjust to the moonlight easing in from the window. He quietly sucked in a breath when he noticed his daughter's pajamas. It was times like these that Oswald wondered if potty training her at the age of two was too early. That maybe, if they'd waited a few months longer, she wouldn't have problems with bedwetting. Annabelle sniffled and raised her arms. He obliged. Once Annabelle's head hit his shoulder, Oswald kissed her cheek and shushed her. He felt the dampness of her pajama pants against his arm. It'd been at least six months since she'd last had an accident and, given her ability to stay dry, they'd done away with training pants. Oswald wondered if they even still had Pull-Ups in the bathroom cabinet.

He placed three quick kisses on her temple. "Don't be ashamed. You've been through a lot today. It's okay. Shh….Dad and I aren't upset. Come on, let's get you a bath."

Annabelle sniffled.

"It's okay, AB. Accidents happen." Ed rubbed her back and kissed his husband's cheek. "Oswald, I'll go strip her sheets. You get her washed."

"Thanks, honey." As Annabelle continued to cry, Oswald smoothed her hair. "What do you say we get you cleaned up, and then you can sleep with us in the big bed, hm?"

She nodded. Oswald set her on her feet and followed her to the bathroom across the hall. He and Ed had it down to a science. This time Ed would be the one to strip her bed, because he knew the right ratio for the mattress cleaning solution that prevented staining and odor. Oswald would give Annabelle a bath since his presence, and occasionally his singing, were often enough to calm her down. Both men would dress her and put her back to bed. Although they hadn't used this system in months, it'd served them well. As he turned on the taps, Oswald hoped it would work again.

"A nice, hot bath will make you feel better."

He bent down to remove her pajamas and saw that her thumb was in her mouth. Anxiety nestled in the back of his mind. Ed had managed to get Annabelle to stop the thumb sucking around the same time Oswald potty trained her. He discarded her soiled clothes in the sink, his lips pulling into a tight line.

 _Please tell me she's not regressing because of that school._ He thought.  _Anything but that school._

Annabelle noticed her father's concerned expression as he placed her in the tub, and immediately dropped her hand from her mouth. "I-I didn't mean to."

Oswald focused his attention back on his daughter. "Wha—? Oh...honey, no. It's okay. Annabelle, I'm not upset with you. It was accident."

The small girl lowered her eyes. "I didn't mean to."

"I know. Belle, baby, why do you keep apologizing?"

"I don't want daddy to leave because of me."

"My dear,  _nothing_  you could ever do would make either of your daddies leave."

Annabelle frowned. "But dad didn't go upstairs. He said he would and he didn't. He's gonna leave."

"Annabelle, I assure you, dad isn't going anywhere." Oswald ran a large bath sponge across her shoulders and down her arms, leaving behind a trail of lavender-scented suds. "Dad's not leaving, Annabelle. He's staying with us."

"Does dad hate you?"

"No, honey. He loves us both very much. He's just stressed and tired." Oswald tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Um, he doesn't know what to do to make himself feel better."

Annabelle's expression didn't change. Instead, she brought her fingers to her mouth and started to chew on her thumbnail. He carefully pulled her hand away, knowing it was his fault she'd picked up the habit.

"Is that all that’s bothering you?"

"No...I'm scared daddy will leave 'cause...cause of me."

Ed entered the bathroom with a clean set of pajamas. Oswald briefly wondered how much his husband had heard. He silently hoped that The Riddler picked up every word of it. Ed placed a hand on his hip. "AB, it's okay. I'm not going to leave because of you. Actually, I'm not going to leave at all."

"But you said you and daddy were 'vorcing," said Annabelle.

"We're not anymore.”

Annabelle made a face. Oswald lifted her out of the bath and Edward held out a towel to receive her. The taller man wrapped her in the fluffy green cotton, then set her on the counter to dry her off.

"C'mon, AB. Let's get you dressed."

"Did we still have training pants?" asked Oswald.

"Just two." Ed slipped her nightshirt over her head. Annabelle pulled her arms through the sleeves and looked up at her dad. He sighed. "Annabelle, honey, I know you worked really hard and you earned your big girl undies. But tonight, you're going to wear your pre-big girl undies, okay?"

Oswald held up a purple and white pair of Pull-Ups. "This doesn't change anything, Belle. You're still a big girl. This is just in case."

"Okay," said Annabelle.

Edward set her on her feet on the countertop and helped her into the training pants. He kissed Annabelle's cheek and picked her up. "Ready for bed, AB?"

She nodded, her thumb between her lips. Oswald walked beside his husband on their way back to their bedroom. As he watched Ed lower Annabelle onto their bed, Oswald couldn't help but to be reminded of the times he'd watched his husband place their daughter into her crib after a midnight feeding. Edward carefully climbed into bed on one side of Annabelle, followed by Oswald on the other.

"AB, honey," said Ed. "You know that daddy and I love you, right?"

Oswald brushed her hair away from her forehead. "We'd never do anything to hurt you. My dear, are you upset that dad and I have talked about divorcing?"

Annabelle looked up at her dads but remained quiet.

"It's scary. I know it's really scary because there's a lot of sad things that come with that word, like dad and daddy not being together anymore. Does it scare you?"

"Uh-huh."

"It scares me, too," admitted Oswald. "It's a scary thing. Is that why you drew those pictures at school?"

The tinge of pink filling his daughter's cheeks confirmed everything her fathers suspected.

Ed adjusted his glasses. "AB, it's going to be okay."

"Dad and I are figuring things out. Whatever we decide, we're always going to do what works best for you. You're our top priority, Belle."

"Which is why I'm not going to leave, and Daddy isn't either. We're going to stay here and stay together because we love each other."

Annabelle's brow furrowed. "But the 'vorce?"

"It's not happening," said Ed. He held up his pinky. "I promise, AB."

Oswald linked his pinky with his husband's. " _We_  promise."

That set of actions seemed to ease the four-year-old's mind. For the first time that night, Annabelle smiled. She accepted a goodnight kiss from her dads, before curling up against Oswald's side with her thumb in her mouth. Ed exchanged glances with his husband. They both knew that in the morning Annabelle would probably experience even more hell at school, and Oswald would more than likely have to meet with the Headmistress. But for right now, everything was okay. They were together, Annabelle was content, and that was all that mattered. Edward rubbed gentle circles against her back while he and Oswald began to sing.

_But nothing will warm me more than my, my mother's love. I light another candle..._


	8. Godfather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the best, but I needed to get it out of my mind. Thank you for your comments and kudos!

Tabitha stood beside the gray SUV and looked at her phone. Oswald called an hour ago asking if she'd mind picking up Annabelle and she agreed. She didn't mind. The twins got out early anyway since it was Friday, plus she wanted to continue proving her trustworthiness to Oswald. Although it'd been years since the incident, the Penguin would never fully forget that Tabitha took Gertrud Kapelput's life. He forgave her when the twins were born, but he never forgot, and she could see it in his eyes when she looked at him. Or, rather, her own guilt about her previous actions made her see it in his eyes. Either way, she made it a point to always help Oswald with Annabelle whenever he asked.

"Ugh, Braeden!"

The back passenger side door sat open allowing anyone who walked by to hear the twins, who were strapped into the third row of seats, argue about who got to pick the movie next.

"But I don't wanna watch Up!" screamed Braeden.

Bailey kicked her legs against the seat. "Well, I don't wanna watch Rat-Patootie!"

"Well, I wanna watch Yo Gabba Gabba!"

Tabitha snatched off her sunglasses and stuck her head inside the car. "Well, I don't wanna hear either of you yelling anymore!"

Braeden groaned, "But mama—"

"No. Now, here's how it's gonna go down. Either neither of you picks the movie, or Annabelle gets to pick."

"But I don't wanna watch Barbie in the Nutcracker again!" said Bailey.

"Or, you can watch the scenery on the way home because you lost your privilege to watch anything. And you know it's a long drive to Uncle Oswald's." Tabitha was lying, of course. Annabelle would be dropped off at Iceberg Lounge, which was just over ten minutes away. Bailey and Braeden needed to behave, and they would do that if they believed they were driving nearly thirty minutes away to the manor. "So what's it gonna be: Annabelle's pick or passing cars?"

The twins grumbled.

"What's that? Did you say Annabelle's pick?"

"Yes, mama," said Bailey and Braeden.

Tabitha returned to her previous position beside the car and put her sunglasses back on. She hoped she hadn't arrived too late. If she recalled correctly, GCPA's afternoon pre-K classes were from 11 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.. She checked her phone. It was now five minutes after dismissal. Oswald told Tabitha what Edward dressed Annabelle in that morning, so she scanned the crowd of emerging kids for a girl in a white jumper, purple socks, and a green headband. She noticed The Riddler's daughter exiting the school beside another girl in a pink romper with wavy hair and red glasses. They giggled about something then waved to each other.

Tabitha cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, "Annabelle, sweetie, over here!"

"Bye, Drea!" said Annabelle. She headed toward her and stepped up into the SUV. "Hi, Aunt Tabs!"

"Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yeah. Drea sat next to me at snack time and-and then, she shared her crayons when we colored."

Tabitha set her backpack in the car, then buckled Annabelle into the car seat. "Sounds like a great day, sweetie."

"Yep!"

"Do want to pick a movie to watch on the way?"

"Um…can we watch Yo Gabba Gabba?"

Braeden pumped his fist. "Yes!"

"Ugh!" complained Bailey. "Braeden gets everything!"

Annabelle turned around and asked, "Bay, what did you wanna watch?"

"Monsters, Inc."

"Ooh! Ooh! Aunt Tabs, can we watch that?"

Tabitha nodded. "Monsters, Inc. it is."

* * *

Victor Zsasz stood outside Iceberg Lounge's side entrance and waited for Oswald's precious cargo. He wasn't here because his boss forced him to be, or because he asked. Instead, the assassin waited for the miniature Riddler because he'd made himself responsible for the kid on days like these when Oswald was busy, and Annabelle needed someone trustworthy watching her. Oswald always happily accepted the offer because he knew that if Zsasz collected Annabelle, no one would attempt to get to Penguin through her. Victor honestly didn't mind. Edward and Oswald had their plates full, and Victor knew it. He really disliked seeing Penguin stretch himself thin so often. It made Oswald more likely to throw a tantrum and make rash decisions. He also didn't exactly care for the way The Riddler switched gears between his job at GCPD, his criminal life, and fatherhood. Annabelle was always unintentionally shortchanged due to Edward's inability to balance his lives. Because Oswald and Edward had their plates full, the assassin silently picked up slack where he could. He called suppliers, handled Oswald's assistant when he fucked things up, and gained Dad Reflexes™ the day Annabelle nearly fell off the stage when she first started walking. He even left a large plate of cookies in the manor the night before the GCPA Bake Sale when he noticed Oswald forgot. It saved him from being bored, and it helped Oswald out, which is mainly why he did it.

His willingness to help the couple started accidentally when Annabelle was still a newborn. Back when the position of Annabelle's godfather fell into his lap.  

Oswald wasn't sure who to appoint, and Edward was too overwhelmed with learning how to care for a baby to help decide. Victor found himself as a candidate one afternoon when Penguin called a meeting with certain members of Gotham's underground. The convergence of minds wanted to discuss matters that were of no particular interest to the assassin, so he opted to wander the manor instead. Truthfully, Victor just wanted to see the baby because he didn't believe Edward and Oswald actually took the steps necessary to have one. He found her in a bassinet in an adjacent room, fussing and kicking, her mitten-clad hands preparing to flail. Her ears had that slight curve to them and stuck out at the sides like Edward's. She stared up at him with curiosity, and he couldn’t help but to notice that her eyes, which were dark and somewhat downturned at the ends, also matched those of her father. 

" _Well, I'll be goddamned."_

Annabelle’s face scrunched. He didn't want her to scream. Oswald ranted one day about her tendency to do so, and he absolutely did not want to experience that firsthand. So Victor picked her up, removed her mittens (hell, he'd be upset too if someone covered his hands), and carried her to the kitchen. He found himself making her a bottle of formula. He'd just fished it out of a complex electric bottle warmer when she let out a shrieking cry. The sound definitely startled him, but he maintained his hold on her and placed the bottle near her mouth. Oswald ran into the room to find Victor pacing the length of the kitchen, waiting patiently as Annabelle happily sucked down her lunch in his arms.

" _Hope you don't mind. I heard her fussing. All she needed was something in her tummy. Isn't that right, Gertie Bell?" Victor grinned down at her. She flexed her fingers in response and continued to eat._

_Oswald stood speechless for a moment. Finally, he closed his eyes and said, "Thank you, Victor. If you will, make sure to use a towel when you burp her to avoid any vomit from staining your clothes. I'll have it dry cleaned if it does."_

" _Got it. Oh, and boss?"_

_"Yes?"  
_

_"I don't exactly mind extending childcare services for this one...if you need it."_

Oswald took him up on the offer exactly three times that month before he offered him the position of godfather in the most unconventional way possible. Victor recalled rushing into a church with guns drawn in response to an urgent text from Edward. He arrived to find Annabelle safe in Oswald's arms, Ed standing beside him, and a priest and in front of them. It was a christening. He holstered his weapons and started to take a seat in one of the pews. The priest asked the godmother and godfather to come forward and repeat after him. When Victor didn't move, Oswald instructed him to take his place next to Ivy Pepper. He'd never been so simultaneously confused and honored. 

Tabitha turned the corner onto the back street of the club. Victor typed out a text to Oswald notifying him that his daughter arrived, and pocketed his phone. The SUV slipped under the awning and came to a stop. 

Victor opened the door, "Oswald appreciates your flexibility."

"Tell him 'no problem'," said Tabitha.

Victor made the exchange quick. Oswald asked him to bring Annabelle straight inside once she arrived and watch her while he finished up a few phone calls. He had Penguin's daughter out of the car and up the stairs of the club in less than two minutes. Annabelle held onto Victor's hand as they walked through the hall. Sometimes, she latched herself onto his leg and he'd pretend she was too heavy for him to move, or that he couldn't find her. Today, he swung their hands as they walked.

"Sass?" said Annabelle, glancing up at him. "I didn't...I didn't have to see the mistress today."

"That's good, isn't it, Gertie Bell?" Victor asked.

She nodded.

"Your daddies told me about Amber and Jasmine. Did they try anything to make you feel bad again?"

"No. Their mommies told them to stay away from me." Annabelle shrugged and said, "But that's okay cause they're not nice to me and Drea and Sasha are."

"It's better to have nice people in your life than mean ones."

"Yeah."

The waver in her voice pricked Victor's ears. He knew what was coming. Victor crouched in front of her. "Gertie Bell." When she kept her gaze locked on the floor, he sighed and gently raised her chin. "Annabelle, look at me." Her brown eyes slowly raised to meet his. She wasn't crying yet, but she would be soon if he wasn't careful. "Amber and Jasmine were not your friends if they were mean to you."

"They weren't always mean."

"Were they mean more than three times?"

"Yeah."

"Did they apologize every time?"

"No. One time they said said sorry, but only 'cause a teacher made them."

"Did they know they hurt your feelings?"

"I didn't tell them but I cried each time. They called me a baby."

"That means they weren't really your friends." Victor sighed. "It happens sometimes. Some people can be jerks. Are Drea and Sasha jerks?"

"No," said Annabelle. "They're really nice. Drea let me borrow her crayons and she has the big pack with the thing in the back that makes them pointy."

"No way! The pack with the sharpener?"

"Yup."

"Wow, then they're really nice. You should probably stay friends with them."

"I want to." Annabelle watched Victor stand. She took his hand as they continued their walk to the main area of the club. "I wish every day at school would be like today. My teacher was out sick and I don't like her very much. She's mean to me too."

"Like the headmistress?"

"Yeah. They don't like me."

Victor hummed. "Well, how about we make today even better? I'll make you a chocolate milk, and you can tell me the other adults you don't like at that school."

"Okay!"

The assassin watched Annabelle skip toward the bar and try to pull herself onto one of the stools. The leader of that academy made his list months ago, but he'd yet to add her teacher. Edward and Oswald played nicely with that school for too long. Perhaps it was time for Victor to get involved.


	9. Checklist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! It's fun to write, and it's awesome that so many of you like this fic. This next one is in honor of the mid-season finale.

"Did you call your lawyer?"

"What?"

Oswald sighed. "Did you call your lawyer...or whoever you got the divorce papers from?"

"No," said Ed. "I've been a little preoccupied with AB, but I'll do it first thing Monday when they're back in the office."

"Good. You agreed the other night that you'd be okay with calling it off. Then we promised Annabelle we weren't getting a divorce. I don't want to lie to her about something that major."

Ed nodded in agreement and attempted to return his attention to the case files he'd been in the middle of poring over. He didn't blame Oswald for wanting any and all confirmation from his partner that the divorce was off the table. He glanced at the intricate engravings etched into the platinum of Oswald's wedding band. They agreed to love, protect, and care for each other. It'd been easy—after all, he'd done it for so long. When Annabelle came along, they agreed to do things together, to be united as partners in being her fathers. It'd been hard—much harder than he'd expected. He hadn't held up his end of that one. The longer he considered his daughter, the more he knew that he needed and wanted to make this work. He couldn't just fuck off and leave Oswald with her, and he couldn't just take her from him. They were a team. Oddly, they had been since the day Ed met Oswald in the precinct. He'd been just a forensics guy. Oswald was Penguin, an odd man with an odd haircut that was on everyone's hit list. Oswald had showed Ed who he could be, and he owed so much to him for it.

"Thanks, Ed." Oswald set a hand on Ed's shoulder and pressed his lips into his hair. Ed gave his fingers a loving squeeze in return. That squeeze led to their mouths meeting in a gentle kiss.

Ed quickly pulled away. He had to tell him the last of what he'd been feeling. If not for transparency, then at least so every part of the divorce business would be behind him. "Oz, I have to tell you something."

His husband sat beside him at the table; the color began to drain from his face. "You cheated."

"No, it's not that, it's…" Ed didn't want to tell Oswald that he wanted to take up villainy full time again. He also didn't want to ask him to do the same. But he had to. Ed swallowed. "I...I think...I  _want_  to...go back to being The Riddler."

"Okay. Is that it?"

"Yes. When Annabelle was born, I said I would step down and I did but...I miss it, Oz. I really do. I want to find a way to go back to it."

"You'd have to be careful. You can't put on productions the way you used to because we have a little girl to think about who depends on us." When Ed frowned at his words, Oswald rubbed his eyes. "Edward, I'm serious. You can do minor things or, I don't know, do something behind the scenes with the underground the way I do with the club. I'm indirectly involved and GCPD turns a blind eye on occasion. You'd have to find a way to cover your ass. I can't see you arrested or sent to Arkham."

"I don't want to go back there," muttered Ed. "Truth be told, the nightmares are finally starting to go away. It'd be a shame for them to start back up again."

"Mine are still lingering. I finally got past the anxiety in my chest that cropped up whenever I hear screaming, or certain songs that they played in the rec room come on and for a moment I'm taken back. But those treatments, when I close my eyes at night they just…"

Ed's breath hitched in his throat He could see his husband doing that thing where he stared off, lost in some recollection, his eyes misting as his eyebrows creased. Within moments, the smaller man found himself engulfed by his husband. Ed's chin rested on the top of his head, his arms acting as a protective shield around him. "Oswald, you're here," he softly reminded. "You're here."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just...sometimes I get so tired." Oswald pulled back and waved his hand. "I'm fine. I slept better last night. I just wish it'd stop. At least they're down to once every few weeks….Ed, I want you to be careful if you're going back into this full time. Promise me you won't start back up until the next month or two when Annabelle's long out of that school and we've secured a new school for her?"

"What about that option we discussed last night? I mean, I promise I'll wait, yeah, but I thought we were going to see about homeschooling."

"Who would teach her?" asked Oswald. "Neither of us have time, and I'm not in the mood to search for a good teacher."

"What about—"

"What the hell, Nygma!"

Both men turned to the entryway where Barbara stood with her hands firmly on her hips. Ed had to admit he was taken aback by her appearance. Barbara's hair hung lifelessly around her face and dripped on her fur-trimmed robe. Beneath the robe she wore pajamas, and her usual stilettos were replaced with moose slippers.

"Excuse you!" Oswald scrambled to his feet. "That key was supposed to be for emergen—"

"This is one!" bit Barbara.

"Babe, calm down." Tabitha walked over to her wife. Ed's eyes widened. Her typical black attire was replaced with a deep gray shirt, red shorts, and flip flops. Ed glanced at his husband out of the corner of his eye. Oswald seemed equally caught off guard. "We don't know if they—"

"Yes, we do!" Barbara narrowed her eyes at the men. "A certain  _teacher_  from GCPA is dead. I'm minding my business, washing my hair, trying to relax while Bay and Brae are gone, when I hear the news that that teacher is dead."

Ed let out a surprised chuckle and suppressed a smile, while Oswald's jaw slackened. Finally, the person who caused so much stress was gone.  _Thank heavens_. He looked to his partner who seemed to be having a difficult time computing what Barbara had just said.

Oswald blinked at her. He struggled to form the words.  _Dead_. A teacher was dead. He began to gesticulate as he asked, "We  _are_  talking about  _Annabelle's_  teacher, correct?"

"No, Braeden's. Of course, Annabelle's!" Barbara pressed. "What the hell? I thought we had an agreement that we wouldn't murder anyone from that academy until  _all_  of our kids were out of that hellhole."

"We do."

"Last I checked, Annabelle is still there."

"She is," agreed Edward, standing.

"Then why the  _fuck_  was her teacher found murdered?"

"I don't know, but can I get you a towel? You're dripping on the wood."

Barbara locked eyes with Ed, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and squeezed. Water pooled on the floor beside her. After doing the same to the other side, she shook off her hand. "I don't want a towel. I want an explanation,  _Nygma_."

"Cobblepot," Ed added.

"Does that matter?"

"Kinda."

"Edward, I am not playing with you right now. This is serious. Did you do this?"

"Relax, Mrs. Galavan. I didn't."

Barbara turned her eyes to Oswald, who immediately held up his hands. "I didn't either. Honest. The only person I killed or had killed in the last week was one of my supplier's workers."

"Ms. Riesling being dead is news to us."

Tabitha took her wife's hand. "See, Barbara? They're innocent. Now, let's go. Pam only has the kids for a couple hours. I don't want to waste what little free time we get on this."

Victor slipped into the room. All eyes fell on him as he calmly walked toward his boss with two Target bags in hand. He glanced at Barbara. "Too much product." As she gave him the finger, he turned to Tabitha. "Nice flip flops. Old Navy?"

"Yeah," Tabitha made a face and folded her arms. "And?"

"They look comfortable."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Look, Ed, I swear to God, if you killed that teacher—"

"Gertie Bell's teacher?" said Victor. He stared at a spot on the floor for a moment then looked up. "Yeah, I heard about that. Shame it had to go down that way."

Oswald and Edward exchanged glances. Barbara lifted her eyebrows while Tabitha rubbed her temples.

"At least she won't bother Annabelle anymore."

"What did you do?" asked Ed.

"There was an accident and she found herself in the Narrows. I don't think she made it out alive."

"What did you do, Victor?"

The assassin shrugged. "Nothing directly. According to the police report, her car broke down near the Narrows. Apparently there was a mugging or something afterward. It was a tragic accident. Jim and his Finest are still figuring out the details, but given where it happened...I think they'll let it go."

Ed plopped into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Had he wanted the teacher dead? Yes. Did he think Zsasz would do it? No. At least not without either his or Oswald's instructions. He knew the assassin knew about Annabelle's teacher and what she'd put the child through, but he didn't think Victor would take it upon himself to do something about it. " _Jiminy Christmas_ …."

"You killed her teacher?" asked Barbara.

"Technically?" Victor shook his head. "No."

"But you were involved."

"Not directly."

Oswald folded his arms. "Why? I mean I know why. Every single one of us has a reason to go after that woman, but why?"

"The kid gave me a list."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute—"

"The kid…as in," Ed gestured at himself and his husband, " _our_ kid?"

Victor nodded.

Penguin laughed. "You're telling me my daughter gave you a hit list? That's a good one."

"I'm serious. Annabelle told me names of adults who were mean to her, and I wrote them down." Victor reached into his chest pocket and removed a slim black notebook the size of his palm. They watched as he flipped past several pages. He held up a page titled G.B.N.C.H.L. "Here."

Oswald snatched it and scanned it. Realizing it was nothing but numbers and initials, he passed it to his husband.

Ed squinted at the writing. "Gertie Bell Nygma-Cobblepot Hit List? Number one, M.R. Ms. Riesling. Number two, H.M.D. Headmistress Dean. Number three, T.M. question mark, dash T.N.K. The moms?"

Victor nodded.

"T.N.K.?"

"Oh!" said Tabitha. "T.N.K.—torture, not kill."

"Wow."

"As you can see, I was thorough considering what she told me." Victor took back his book. "What was I supposed to do, not follow it?"

"Exactly!" Oswald snapped. "Especially when it comes from a four-year-old!"

Ed rubbed his forehead. "AB's a preschooler who doesn't exactly understand that she's making a hit list for an assassin."

"Alright, fine," said Victor.

"Though I have to say, from a villain standpoint, that's pretty amazing."

Oswald stared at the grin on his partner's face. "Edward, _really_?"

"I'm just saying."

"You find this amusing?"

Ed held up his hand with his thumb and index finger pinched together. "Little bit."

Penguin rolled his eyes.

"Oswald, relax." He could see a tantrum brewing and he thought that adding a bit of levity to the situation would help. He knew that what likely set Oswald off was the fact that he didn't get the chance to exact his revenge. Ed wanted to do the job himself, but he understood that whatever Victor cooked up was likely much more satisfying than anything the couple could have done. Besides, there was nothing they could do now. She was dead.

"How am I supposed to relax when her teacher is dead?"

Victor's face hardened. "Boss, can I say something? I agreed to come to Annabelle's defense. I take my position in her life and my duties seriously. I never liked what I saw of that teacher on the days I dropped off Gertie Bell at that place the two of you insisted on sending her despite what they did to the Kean-Galavans. I held my tongue and did what was asked without question. After hearing all of the things you and Annabelle told me about that teacher and that Academy, something had to be done. Now, I didn't directly harm that woman, but I can certainly say I'm glad she won't be around anymore to allow my goddaughter to be harmed on a regular basis."

No one said a word. They all knew Victor cared for Annabelle as if he were her actual father. In fact, they all knew they often treated him as such. He was, for all intents and purposes, her third dad. Victor Zsasz was an assassin with a deep-seated sense of loyalty. He'd aligned himself with Penguin completely a year or two before Annabelle's birth. Penguin was as good as family, which meant any descendants of Penguin would be treated just the same. Victor was unbelievably protective and absolutely ruthless in doing so. In regards to Annabelle, he could get downright vicious.

When Annabelle was kidnapped, the streets of Gotham ran red when Victor went looking for the fool who'd taken her. During one particular meeting a year ago, a henchman who went by D mentioned that he didn't understand why the kingpin wanted a family so badly and joked about the girl being a waste. Before Oswald could do or say anything, Victor had already jammed a knife into D's throat. Oswald sat dumbfounded as Victor twisted it and asked if anyone else had something to say about Penguin or his daughter while D gurgled an apology. It made sense that he'd taken it upon himself to protect Annabelle this way after finally having enough of her mistreatment.

Realizing this, Oswald softened. "Thank you, Victor. I mean it, thank you."

Victor slowly blinked, acknowledging his boss's recognition. He reached into one of the bags and removed a jumbo sized coloring book and yellow and green box marked Crayola Ultimate Crayon Collection. The packaging touted that it contained 152 Crayons. He held them up. "I also got Gertie Bell a surprise. Is she upstairs?"

"Yes," said Ed. "We put her down for a nap in our bedroom. Could you wake her up?"

"Sure, but I might not have to. It's hard to sleep when there's people screaming downstairs."

Oswald shot him a glare that followed him out of the room. He turned his attention to Barbara, whose nearly dry hair had begun to curl at the ends. "Well, my dear, it seems our little agreement had a bit of a glitch."

"It's fine." Barbara shrugged. "Great, actually. Since Zsasz is playing Santa to Annabelle's list, then it's about to be Christmas."

Tabitha's eyes widened at her wife's insinuation. "Honey, no."

"Honey, yes. If Annabelle got one, then I get one. It was nice chatting with you boys." She turned on her heel and headed for the door. "C'mon babe, let's go. I have some checking off to do."


	10. Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like showing some domestic bits and fluff following the drama of the last chapter.

"Barbara Kean has lost her goddamned mind! Well, she lost it years ago, but she’s reached a new level. She didn’t even wait until the end of the day to do something about the GCPA thing. And now one of the PTA mom’s is dead."  
  
Oswald sighed. His husband’s tendency to gesticulate and occasionally accent his words with head movements was fine when he wasn’t trying to style his hair. "Honey—"  
  
"We're changing the locks, too. Ugh, I just don’t understand—"

"Oh, my God! Edward, honey, I understand your frustration, really I do, but I need you to be still."   
  
Ed began to jiggle his leg instead. "Sorry."  
  
"Thank you." Oswald dipped his hand into a jar of gel, then rubbed his palms together. "I'm sorry for snapping, but I swear you’re worse than, Annabelle. At least you don’t scream."  
  
Ed caught his husband’s eyes out of the corner of his own and noticed a loving smile. He smirked back at him. He turned his gaze to their daughter. She sat on their bed in a with Mr. Waddles in her lap as she ran a toy brush over his fur. She wore a slightly too big button-up shirt and her hair was a mess waiting to be styled by Penguin. He and Oswald had covered her ears with noise-canceling headphones so that they could have a private conversation as they got ready for that afternoon’s event. Given Annabelle’s penchant to listen and occasionally repeat, the last thing her fathers wanted was for her to be privy to the current situation. While simply putting the headphones over her ears was often enough, sometimes it wasn’t, and they plugged them into a Walkman with a Disney mixtape to distract her. Today, they’d skipped the Walkman.  
  
Oswald followed his husband’s glance to Annabelle. "Belle, baby, can you hear what daddy and papa are talking about?"  
  
She continued brushing her companion, her attention fixed on the stuffed penguin.  
  
"Annabelle?" said Ed. When she didn’t look up or acknowledge them, he continued the conversation. "Oz, I can sense that both of our fuses are a little short..."

"I don't know about you," Oswald began, "but I found it somewhat difficult to sleep last night. More than usual, at least."  

"You know, I thought I felt you moving a lot."

"I try not to let Barbara's antics get to me. However, I had a nightmare or two about the consequences of her actions. One was Arkham related."

"Oh, Oswald." He tried to form words of sympathy, but his husband held up his hand. Ed reluctantly dropped the subject. "I don’t want to harp on it, but her killing that PTA mom really didn’t sit right with me. I don’t know, I guess it just took me back to earlier days, before the kids, before everything, when she just did whatever without really thinking."

"Well, we can’t do anything about Barbara's behavior except hope that she had the sense to make it look like an accident."   
  
"Oz, we both know she didn’t."  
  
"I know. Don’t move, I’m almost done."  
  
Ed waited patiently for Oswald to finish carding his fingers through his hair. As much as he tried, Ed could never pull off a perfect hairstyle without the help of Oswald. Sure, Ed could do a pompadour by himself, but Oz had the power to make it perfectly coiffed with a decent gel to strand ratio. Once he was done, Ed turned around and looked up at his husband. "Thanks...I love you, Oswald."  
  
Oswald leaned in for a kiss and Ed closed the gap between them. After a lingering peck, he set to wiping his hands on a damp towel. "I love you, too. Now, as for our problem with Mrs. Kean-Galavan, we just have to, I don’t know, be reasonable."  
  
Ed lifted his eyebrows. "You’re unreasonably calm about this."   
  
"Oh, I’m not calm," said the smaller man with a smile. "On the outside, I might seem like it because, as I said, I try not to let her get to me. Truth be told, I’m so livid I cannot even _begin_ to express how much I want to scream and drag Barbara across the pavement for taking what was a minor thing that would likely go away and turning it into an actual situation that will undoubtedly cause a problem."  
  
" _There’s_ my husband."  
  
"I swear to God the only thing stopping me from going off right now is the fact that she killed someone we’ve never crossed paths with so there’s plausible deniability." Oswald adjusted his tie. "Plus, I know whatever I do to Barbara won’t hold a candle to what Tabitha has planned for retaliation."   
  
After a pause, Ed chuckled. "Tabitha did seem particularly upset at Barbara’s words when she left."

"Not as upset as she probably is now that Barbara actually made good on her promise."

"Do you blame her? Babs, I mean. It’s only fair she killed someone since—"

"No, that was an oversight. Victor didn’t directly do it and we can’t help that Belle gave him a hit list. She didn’t know what she was doing."   
  
"Still, Zsasz works for us, and by extension AB. Even though she didn’t know, it’s basically like we told him to do it,” reasoned Ed. "So we kinda _did_ break the agreement."  
  
Oswald tilted his head and made a face. "That’s a stretch. And did we _really_ break the agreement if Zsasz wasn’t the one to actually kill her?"  
  
"True." 

"He did us a favor. I owe him an apology for not acting like it."

"We'll have him come by tonight and do it formally." 

While Ed worked on tying his own tie, Oswald picked up Annabelle’s green dress from the dresser knob. They alternated which parent she would match and, for this event, it would be Ed. Oswald gave his husband a quick once-over. His black slacks and white shirt were neatly pressed, his deep green vest matched his tie and his black suit jacket hung on a hanger nearby ready to wear. His own ensemble was equally prepared and similar with the exception of the soft purple to complement his husband.

"Here." Ed handed him a pack of white tights. "And before you ask, she went before you started my hair, so she should be good to go."  
  
"Is it bad that I considered putting her in training pants for this?" asked Oswald, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Not at all. There’s been a lot of stress on all of us lately, and the Barbara thing didn’t help. It’s not a bad idea to just do it. It’d be one less thing to worry about." 

"I know Belle can tell us when she has to go, but sometimes she tells us when it’s almost too late and we barely get her to the bathroom in time. Add tights to that equation and...."  
  
"It’s Family Picture Day all over again. No, I get it. I really don’t want her to experience having an accident with tights on, but she’s not wearing that dress without them."

"Exactly, she’s too adorable in it." As Oswald made his way to the bed, he motioned for Annabelle to take off the headphones. "I think she’ll be okay with underwear for a few hours. It’s only been a problem at night."

Ed set to tying his shoes. "That’s true. It should be fine."

"Hopefully," said Oswald. He helped Annabelle sit on the edge of the bed. "Alright, Belle, baby, let’s get you dressed."  
  
The taller man noticed the way their daughter eyed the dress and felt dread form in his stomach. Maybe they should’ve gone with the deep purple one after all. If she wasn’t happy with the green sleeveless dress, she would fuss until she got over it—or she would throw a Penguin-level tantrum. Edward deeply hoped it wasn't the latter situation. He honestly didn't get enough rest the night before to be able to properly handle it, and diffusing Annabelle's tantrums were hard enough on a good day.

Oswald removed her shirt and unwittingly held his breath when he pulled the dress over her head. Annabelle started with a small wordless whine that stopped once Oswald made sure the dress was properly zipped and situated. Both men sighed in relief when their daughter ran her hands over the sequin roses on the green skirt and played with the rose sash. Her father's exchanged looks. They needed to act quickly while she was momentarily distracted. If she realized that they were about to put her in hosiery, she would bolt. The Riddler _hated_ running after a defiant Annabelle. The last time it happened, she'd just turned three and he jammed his toe on a doorframe in the process, inadvertently teaching her the word ' _fuck_ '. It was a long day at GCPD when she repeated it in front of Bullock and Jim a few months later. Harvey rewarded Annabelle with a milkshake while Ed didn't live it down for the rest of the week. 

He opened the tights while Oswald sat on the edge of the bed and placed Annabelle in his lap. The fathers had a system that served them well after Annabelle turned two when simply dressing her in tights quickly became a task that required both men to wrangle the toddler into a pair of nylons. Ed crouched in front of his loves. "Honey, we have to put your tights on."  
  
Annabelle began to whine again. He rolled up one leg of the tights in his hand before slipping the toe over his daughter’s right foot. It surprised neither him nor Oswald when she started kicking. She struggled against Ed’s efforts, her back arching as she wriggled in Oswald’s hold. Annabelle whimpered and let out a shriek.  
  
Both men fixed her with a stern stare. " _Annabelle Gertrude_."

Their expressions did nothing to stop their daughter. She continued to kick and struggle while Ed slid her left foot into the other side of the hosiery. Annabelle swapped her whining for alligator tears that worked their way down her cheeks. Attempting to bring the tights up to her knees ignited a series of screams between the watery incoherent protests pouring from her mouth.  
  
"Annabelle, seriously?" The scientist pressed. She was starting to irritate the small headache he had from lack of sleep and too much caffeine. His daughter grew even louder causing his eyebrows to shoot up. "My goodness! We're unhappy, aren't we? Really, really unhappy. You know...sometimes, I forget you have pipes, my little nestling. AB, you’ve worn these before. I know it's uncomfortable, but there’s no need to scream about it. Inside voice, please."

Oswald pulled the squirming preschooler back onto his lap. "Seconded!" He mentally cringed with each squeal. The noise emanating from Annabelle reminded him way too much of the time he'd been trapped in a bank vault. Like the alarm, her screams were seemingly never-ending. "Honey, you're going to hurt yourself. Be still." 

"AB, stop kicking." Since talking it out didn’t to do anything to ease their daughter, he took to shushing her instead. " _Annabelle_ , it’s okay. Honey, _please._ Please, please, _please_ , you've got to stop crying…or at least stop screaming."

"We just want to dress you and make you look nice for the benefit," cooed Oswald. "My dear, it’s okay."  
  
"You’d think we were giving her a shot."  
  
Oswald placed her on her feet on the mattress. "We’re almost done, Annabelle, I promise.” He pulled the tights up to her stomach and pulled her skirt down. Oswald held up his hands with a smile and said, "See? All done."

"We're done!" The Riddler did the same. "Yay! You did it."

"It wasn’t so bad, was it?"  
  
Annabelle hiccuped. "Daddy...I don’t wanna...wear shoes."  
  
“You have to, Belle," said Oswald.

"Why?"

"Because we’re going to a place where everyone will have shoes on and you have to as well. How about we put them on later?"

Annabelle accepted this and both men sighed in relief. Ed helped her to the floor while Oswald returned to the dresser in search of diamond butterfly hairpins. The moment Ed took his eyes away from her to finish dressing, Annabelle twirled around once. After noticing the way her skirt moved, she giggled, then started spinning herself in faster circles.

"Someone snapped out of that tantrum quickly," muttered Oswald.

Ed, who was in the middle of shrugging on his jacket, snapped his attention to their daughter. "AB, my baby, please stop spinning around before you get dizzy."

"But it’s twirly," said Annabelle.

"I know, but you'll make your tummy hurt if you don't stop." He picked her up and sat her down on the dresser bench. "Now, stay here, okay? Daddy’s gonna do your hair, so be extra still."

"Okay!"

Oswald suppressed a smile. Annabelle would stay seated, but she definitely wasn’t going to be still. Like father, like daughter. He frowned as he tried to determine what to do with her hair. He ran a comb through the soft mess of brown as he thought. Thankfully, there weren't many tangles and they were relatively easy to undo.

"Daddy, I want-I want it to be like you and daddy’s."

Ed snickered and Penguin shot his husband a look. "I’ll see what I can do, my dear."

He wasn’t about to style her hair after his, or even Edward’s for that matter. What he really wanted to do was to pull it into two very small pigtails or a braid. After some consideration, however, Annabelle's wishes won out. Her hair was still a little too awkwardly short to do what he had in mind, and a little too long to do what she wanted. Oswald decided to do his best to honor her request by brushing her hair back over the top of her head in a mini bump and securing them in place with the diamond butterfly pins. Next, he placed hair gel on the tips of his fingers. He almost wanted to spike the back but slicked it down instead.

"How's that?" Oswald asked. "Like it?"

Annabelle nodded. "Yes."

"Great. You're adorable as always, my dear."

She raised her arms and Edward swooped in to pick her up while his husband finished cleaning his hands. "Alright, AB. This benefit is going to have a lot of grown-ups, so Daddy and I want you to be on your best behavior. Okay?"

Oswald kissed her forehead. "It’ll go by quick, Belle. Ready, Ed?"

"Yep. Let's go."  


End file.
